Burning Starfire
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: Yami Bakura, Ryou Bakura, and Mr. Bakura are whisked away to a parallel dimension by an old enemy. A case of mistaken identity leads the trio to be targeted by a zealous vigilante.
1. A Chill in the Air

**Yu-Gi-Oh!**

**Burning Starfire**

**By Lucky_Ladybug**

**Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! It's been a long time since I've tried writing a multi-chapter fantasy fic, but I've been on such a fantasy kick lately, and discovering the prompts at the Livejournal comm 30 Quests made the plunnies explode. So I'm going to try it! It takes place in my post-series **_**Pendulum Swings**_** timeline, where Yami Bakura as the Thief King survives Zorc's destruction. Many thanks to Kaze and Lisa and Crystal Rose for plot help!**

**Chapter One**

**A Chill in the Air**

**Prompt: #5 - **_**Hidden Meaning in a Dream**_

_Fire. . . ._

_The fire was all around him, torching higher and higher into the sky as it consumed all in its path. A cruel, all-too-familiar cackle was echoing as well. Bloodshot lavender eyes imposed themselves onto the backdrop of the farthest flames, with just a hint of bulging veins around the eyes on all sides. Behind the blazing wall, the silhouette of something akin to a pocketwatch was swinging back and forth._

_Then came another mad laugh, not that demon's, but someone else's. The fire burned out, leaving everything blackened and twisted. Charred corpses were sprawled among the ashes and shattered pieces of property and livelihood. He stood there, staring, bewildered as to what had just happened._

_The scene faded, leaving him alone in an endless void. But then, a black-cloaked figure was charging out of the night, a sword held high._

_"I'll never forgive you!" a grief-stricken voice cried. The metal glinted as it cut through the air._

_He dodged the swipe of the blade, stumbling to the side. As he righted himself, he caught a glimpse of a brown eye from beneath the depths of the dark hood._

Lavender eyes snapped open, staring out at the stillness of the room from behind white bangs. For a long moment the owner of the eyes lay there on the edge of the bed, gripping the quilt with tan-skinned fingers. His thoughts were a confused tumult.

What sort of bizarre dream was that? It seemed different from the nonsensical dreams everyone, including he, had most of the time. And yet it was certainly filled with nonsense. Random fires, cruel eyes, mad laughter . . . an unforgiving swordsman. . . . He clenched the quilt tighter. For some reason, that part bothered him most of all.

It was probably just random, leftover feedback from his mind after the torment he had suffered at the hands of Yami Marik. Yes, that made enough sense to be plausible. Even though he had mostly recovered, there were still times when a sudden word or action would spark a painful memory and he would have to pause to get hold of himself again. Occasionally he still dreamed of the neverending days as Yami Marik's prisoner, being tormented out of his mind.

He raised up on the mattress, glancing over his shoulder. Bakura was burrowed into the other pillow on the opposite edge of the bed, sound asleep from the looks of it. He was not being disturbed by odd and outlandish visions, or even by the quilt sliding down his shoulder and exposing his arm to the cold room. But that was all the better; he deserved to sleep.

His father was home tonight, working on translating the hieroglyphs on some artifact or another. But in case he decided to go up to bed, his bed needed to be free---making it a necessity for the Egyptian to share Bakura's bed since there were no extras. Neither of them were particularly pleased or comfortable with the arrangement, but they put up with it as best as they could, mostly by staying as far apart from each other as possible. They were . . . well, he was not sure what they were. Related? Friends? They were close in any case, but that did not mean they did not like as much space as possible to move around on the bed.

Bakura was probably still mortified by what had happened the first time they had tried the setup, when he had refused in his sleep to share the quilt and then had snuggled against his old ancestor while also refusing to move. They had separate quilts now, and Bakura fought hard to stay on his side of the bed, even when he was deep in slumber. His subconscious determination really was a sight to behold.

The tired eyes gazed at the boy until they were not really seeing him at all, and instead were caught away to another world, the world of the troubling dream.

The brown-eyed swordsman. . . . It couldn't be . . . could it? The voice had sounded somehow familiar.

How preposterous. As if a boy so innocent that he could not bear to harm any living thing would take up a sword and even try to fight him. Not to mention Bakura did not even know how to use a sword in the first place. He himself was the reckless, unforgiving one.

The gruff thief reached across the space in the middle, pulling the quilt over Bakura's mostly-bare arm before laying down again.

_Sleep, Bakura. Sleep._

_You don't have to bother yourself with strange dreams. For tonight, you don't have any worries at all._

And that was as he liked it; Bakura did not deserve to become embroiled in any more agony.

Yami Bakura brought the pillow closer to him as his eyes drifted closed. Inspite of the eerie dream, he was apparently not wide awake. That was good; he could just sleep as well. Hopefully it would be a dreamless slumber, something actually restful. . . .

****

"Yami?"

He grunted low in his throat at the voice that dared to break into his sleep. But then, annoyed, he opened one eye.

Bakura was bending down in front of him, the apology clearly visible in his eyes. "Yami, I'm so sorry to wake you," he said. "Father's been asking for you all morning. He seems highly upset."

Both eyes snapped open. "What?!" Yami Bakura demanded. It was hard to say which of Bakura's statements was the most shocking---that apparently a good deal of the morning had passed away or that Bakura's father wanted to talk to him. They had a mutual understanding that they would tolerate each other for Bakura's sake, which worked well enough, but they rarely conversed.

Bakura straightened up, shifting as he kept his hands behind his back. "I . . . I think it might have something to do with that strange little box he brought home," he said.

Yami Bakura sat up, throwing back the quilt. "And how would I know anything about it?" he grumbled.

Bakura gave a helpless shrug. "I don't know," he said. "It was found in Egypt, but the writing doesn't really look Egyptian, so . . ."

"Bah!" Yami Bakura got up, grabbing the robe he had thrown into the nearby chair and pulling it on as he headed for the doorway. Bakura stepped aside, watching him. Several muttered snatches of complaint reached the teen's ears as the man shuffled into the hall. "Not Egyptian . . . how would I know about it? . . . I won't be able to translate it. . . ."

Bakura sighed, but then gave a rueful smile. Yami Bakura was grouchy a great deal of the time, which was one of his father's main objections to the rascal.

_But,_ Bakura could not help thinking, _he's always stayed with me._

His eyes widened as he tried to shake the thought. His father had been so grief-stricken over half their family's deaths years earlier. But though he had traveled for years, trying to escape the pain, it had been Yami Bakura of all people who had made him realize he needed to be grateful he still had Bakura and to be around for Bakura more. Since then, he had tried to be at home much more often. Bakura would not feel right about holding the past against him.

He turned back to the bed. Yami Bakura might come back to sleep more, so he would not bother making up Yami Bakura's side of the mattress. But he would fix his own side. He had not done it earlier, so as not to run the risk of disturbing his friend. He walked around to the other side of the bed and began straightening his quilt.

Now he was amused; Yami Bakura never made the bed at all. When it was fixed neatly, it was always Bakura's doing. He had needed to make sure his father's room was in order last night, before the man had arrived. His father was, to Bakura's knowledge, unaware that Yami Bakura slept there when the room was otherwise unoccupied.

Bakura was not sure he would like it.

He fluffed the pillow and then straightened, gazing at the mismatched bed. With an amused shake of his head he turned, heading out of the room and downstairs.

****

James Bakura was looming over his desk, his arms spread and his hands gripping the edges of the carved and finished wood. His glasses slipped down his nose, but he hardly noticed. He was focusing all of his energy on the sight of the small square box in front of him.

It was one of the oddest pieces of workmanship he had ever encountered. Made of smooth gray stone and covered in hieroglyphs save for a strange, circular indentation on what seemed to be the front side, it bore no obvious way to open its sealed top. And the symbols _glowed._ A strange, turquoise light would illuminate one image, then go out and travel to another.

It showed no signs of wear whatsoever, despite the fact that it was clearly of ancient make. Two days ago an archaeologist had stumbled upon a mysterious, dark corner sticking out of the sand, and upon digging it out, had uncovered the box in which this box had been preserved. Obviously it was of great importance somehow, but that archaeologist, and now Mr. Bakura, could not determine what.

He only gave a cursory glance over his shoulder when the floor creaked. "Thief, what do you make of this?" he asked.

Yami Bakura went into the room and promptly picked up the box, glowering at it. "It's not Egyptian," he growled.

"I specialize in Egyptology," Mr. Bakura retorted. "I know that much."

"And how do you expect me to know any more?" Yami Bakura shot back. He moved to plop the thing back on the desk when something stayed his hand. A frown crossed his features as he returned the object to his eye level. Something about a few of these symbols seemed oddly familiar.

Mr. Bakura crossed his arms as he observed. "Well, do you?" he said. "And be careful with that!"

Yami Bakura grunted. "I don't know," he said. He set it down on the desk---gently---and stepped back. "There's something about it that I recall from centuries past."

"Have you ever seen it before?" the blue-haired man persisted.

"No, I have not." Yami Bakura regarded him in irritation. "But I have seen some of the hieroglyphs."

"Where?" Mr. Bakura frowned.

"Somewhere," Yami Bakura snapped, his patience growing very thin. "Perhaps a wanderer was writing them down in a tavern."

Mr. Bakura sighed. "You don't know what culture they're from," he said, removing his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose.

"No," Yami Bakura said.

"Well, let me know if you remember anything else," Mr. Bakura said. Crossing to his chair, he sank into it.

"Perhaps," Yami Bakura said, and walked out.

Mr. Bakura set his glasses on the desk. "Sometimes I really wonder what Ryou sees in him," he muttered to the room.

The box's images pulsed, as if in response. Mr. Bakura gave it an odd look.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that thing agrees with me," he said.

****

Yami Bakura could not explain his feelings as he left Mr. Bakura's office. That box. . . . Something about it, about the symbols he vaguely remembered from ages past . . . it disturbed him. Why? What was it, tugging at the edge of his mind, telling him that the thing was dangerous?

What was the figure he could see, clothed in shadows?

"A traveler?" he said aloud, staring into the distance. Yes . . . a mysterious man in a black cloak. . . . They had spoken once, briefly, long ago at an inn where he had stopped to eat.

"That man was the one writing the strange hieroglyphs." Yami Bakura paused, racking his mind for their conversation. He had lost many of his memories after countless millennia of being absorbed by Zorc's spirit. Sometimes he felt like he was still picking up the pieces. Most of the things he could not remember he doubted were important, so he had not even actively tried to recall the majority of them. But this . . . this could be important, perhaps vitally so.

_"You're not from around here, I see."_

_"No, I am not."_

The words echoed around him, long-forgotten snatches of conversation. He stood still, processing the voices as they swirled over him.

_"I've never seen writing such as that."_

_"You're a thief, are you not? I would doubt you've seen many of the languages of the world."_

_Whether it was intended as an insult or just a flat-out fact, the Thief King was annoyed. The stranger continued to write, almost as if challenging him to defy the statement._

_Gritting his teeth, the Egyptian crossed his arms on the table. "I may not know how to read these other languages, but I at least know what many of them look like," he said. "Travelers from all parts of the world pass through here."_

_The writer paused and looked up, a turquoise eye visible from behind the hood. "You have a point," he consented. "But what does it matter where I am from or what my language is? For the moment, I have only Egyptian."_

_"Then why don't you write in Egyptian?" the Thief King smirked, not ready to back down. "I can only think of one reason---you don't want what you're writing to be deciphered by anyone here."_

_"What if I don't? Everyone has their private matters that are not to be made public."_

The memory faded. Yami Bakura growled, looking away from the opposite wall. "I never did know who he was or where he came from," he muttered. "I remember that much."

And there was one other thing, if he was remembering correctly. As the man had left, hadn't he muttered something about his writing being in a dead language? Or was that only a pipedream?

"Yami?"

He started and looked over with questioning eyes. Bakura had come downstairs and was looking at him in concern and confusion, his own, brown eyes wide and blinking.

"What did Father want?"

"He just wondered if I could identify the thing he has in there," Yami Bakura said. "I can't."

"I see." Bakura still looked confused. "I wonder what on earth it is."

"I wonder why it's flashing," Yami Bakura grumbled. "I've never seen anything like it."

"It's very odd," Bakura agreed. "It's almost like that . . ." He stared off into the distance, mulling over his thoughts. "Like those strange turquoise stones that were landing all over the world sometime back. And the pillars of light."

Yami Bakura's eyes widened. Of course! The color of the lights in the box was exactly like the stones and the lights from the incident with the Doom organization. But was it a coincidence? Or was there really a connection? Atlantis was certainly nowhere near Egypt. Still, if Dartz had really been wandering for thousands of years, he could have ended up there. . . .

He could have even been the stranger from the inn. But would he have been foolish enough to lose the box, if indeed he had been carrying it with him? Or was there another explanation?

He whirled, storming back to Mr. Bakura's office.

Bewildered, Bakura chased after him. "Yami!" the boy called. "Yami, wait!"

Mr. Bakura looked up with a start as they both came in. "What is it?" he demanded, turning his gaze to Yami Bakura.

The thief picked up the box, which was still matter-of-factly twinkling and glowing. "This may have come from Atlantis," he announced.

Both Bakura and his father gawked.

"Atlantis," Mr. Bakura said at last.

Yami Bakura glared at him. "You don't believe in Atlantis?" he growled.

Mr. Bakura glared back. "I heard Professor Hawkins claimed to have gotten photographs of something he thought was Atlantis," he said. "That doesn't mean it actually was. Atlantis isn't anything but a myth to me."

"You say this to a three-thousand-year-old thief standing flesh and bone in your house," Yami Bakura said.

"Good point," Mr. Bakura groaned. "But at least you're from a culture that obviously existed. As long as any writing in Hawkins' pictures can't be translated, we have nothing to prove that there ever was an Atlantis."

Yami Bakura turned the box around in his hands. "Why don't you get a hold of Hawkins and describe these symbols to him?" he said. "If they match with what he found in those photographs, it would be an interesting coincidence at any rate."

Mr. Bakura looked surprised, but then nodded. "It's worth a try," he said, reaching for the phone.

Bakura just shifted uncomfortably as his father dialed. "Something about that box feels wrong," he said, speaking low to only Yami Bakura.

"Wrong?" Yami Bakura repeated with a grunt.

Bakura stared at the ominous container. "What if that really is the Orichalcos making it glow like that?" he worried. "If it is, we shouldn't even have such an evil thing around."

"Someone would have it around," Yami Bakura pointed out. "Perhaps someone who wouldn't be as responsible as us."

Bakura's shoulders slumped. "Yes," he said slowly, "that's true, I suppose, but . . ."

He trailed off as Mr. Bakura came to attention. "Hello, Professor Hawkins?" he said into the phone.

Yami Bakura fell silent too, observing the other man intently. He set the box back on the desk to allow Mr. Bakura to describe it.

From the tone of Mr. Bakura's voice as he explained, he was not pleased by how Professor Hawkins was reacting to the news. But after he had told about only a few of the symbols, Hawkins exclaimed loud enough that Bakura and the Thief King could hear him through the phone.

"That's exactly what they look like?!" he cried. "And the box?"

"Yes," Mr. Bakura frowned, holding the phone away from his ear. "Is there a problem?"

"Oh yes," Hawkins answered, his voice grave. "Mr. Bakura, I've seen a carving of something that looks like your box in some of the pictures I took at the site I believe to be Atlantis. And judging from the story being told in the carvings, it seems to contain a great deal of ancient magic. I can't determine exactly what it did, but it looks as though even the Atlanteans were afraid of it. That's why they sealed the lid."

"Is there any way to open it?" Mr. Bakura wondered. "Not that I would want to, but . . ."

"There is a pendant that fits into the indentation on the one side," Hawkins said. "Supposedly that opens it. The pendant was worn by the king of Atlantis."

"Dartz," Yami Bakura muttered.

Bakura stiffened. "Then it really is the Orichalcos inside?" he gasped.

"It appears as though it could be," Yami Bakura said.

"And I'm sure that pendant was lost during Yugi's battle against Dartz," Bakura said. "I suppose that's a good thing. . . ."

"Unless it wasn't destroyed and instead fell into the wrong hands," Yami Bakura countered.

He crossed his arms. "But I would still like to know how the box got to Egypt and then was lost," he said. "I can't believe Dartz would be so careless, from what I've heard about him."

Bakura sighed. "It really doesn't seem very likely, does it," he said.

"There's more going on than meets the eye," Yami Bakura growled.

A familiar, wicked laugh from out in the hall made him and Bakura freeze and Mr. Bakura stare in shock.

"There certainly is, Thief King," a dark voice purred. A figure came to stand in the doorway, veiled in silhouette with only his gleaming, bloodshot eyes illuminated.

Yami Bakura went pale, his eyes widening. "You!" he snarled.

"I have bad news and worse news for you," Yami Marik sneered as he stepped into the light. "The bad news is, I'm back."

Mr. Bakura's mouth dropped open. Now he could not focus on the telephone call at all; he could only gawk at this bizarre man . . . creature . . . whatever it was.

"Hello?!" Hawkins called into the receiver in vain. "Mr. Bakura, are you there?" 

Yami Marik held up a talisman by the cord, grinning as he watched the trio's eyes following its every swing. "The worse news," he said, as the veins popped out on his face, "is that I think this is what you've been talking about."

Yami Bakura continued to stare, for the moment registering only one thought.

_The object from my dream!_ he exclaimed in his mind. _That's it!_


	2. The Dawn of a New Day

**Notes: This is the third time I've reimagined this world and the characters therein, and the second time for the YGO fandom. Those who remember the old stories, don't expect things to be the same as in that verse.**

**Chapter Two**

**The Dawn of a New Day**

**Prompt: #13 - **_**A Better World**_

Yami Marik continued to dangle the pendant in front of his astonished audience, his eyes wild with anticipation. As his pupils shrank to pinpricks, he grinned all the more like the Devil himself.

At last Yami Bakura recovered his voice. "Where did you get that?!" he demanded.

Yami Marik sneered. "I thought you, of all people, would know, or at least be able to imagine," he said. "Maybe I took it straight from Hell."

"I wouldn't find that surprising," Yami Bakura snarled. "You probably live there when you're not up here."

Mr. Bakura stood up. "Excuse me," he said, "but what is going on? Who are you?" He looked to Yami Marik and his amulet. "Is that really the device that opens this box?"

"Well," Yami Marik exclaimed, "why don't we place it in the indention and find out?!" More veins throbbed as he stepped forward, leering at the shocked museum director.

"No!"

Bakura surprised all of them, including himself, by stepping forward. His brown eyes flashed with determination and righteous indignation as he stared down the cruel madman.

"And what do you plan to do about it, _Ryou?_" Yami Marik spat Bakura's given name, the mocking tones fairly dripping from his voice. He looked delighted at the prospect of harming the boy, especially after a foolish attempt at bravery.

Yami Bakura growled. "Don't do anything stupid," he said, glaring at Bakura.

Bakura would not back down. "You hurt Yami," he said, his voice filled with dark accusation. "He's still recovering from what you did to him at the Ishtars' old home!" He clenched a fist. "And you _dare_ to show your terrible face here, after all that?!"

Mr. Bakura was gawking at his son now. "Ryou, what are you talking about?!" he demanded.

Yami Marik quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? You didn't tell him, Ryou? Shame on you!" His lips pulled back in a twisted grin as he regarded the furious British boy. "I would have thought you'd let him know about that. You know, just in case the thief snaps again and tries to choke him like he did you. . . ."

_"WHAT?!"_ Mr. Bakura burst out.

"Shut up!" Yami Bakura roared at his nemesis. But then he paused and blinked. He had not been the only one speaking.

"Shut up!" Bakura cried again. He stepped forward, his eyes flashing as he glared at Yami Marik. "It was your fault! It was all your fault! I won't have you trying to twist the truth to make it look like Yami is a danger!"

For weeks the anger had been simmering in his heart, waiting to be let out, waiting to have the chance. He had hated Yami Marik more every time he had seen Yami Bakura cringing or standing with a lost look in his eyes or waking up from a nightmare. And he had vowed to himself that if he ever saw the demon, he would speak his piece. Yami Marik was making it too easy for him. His outrage was still growing.

Yami Marik just looked amused. "Well, isn't he?" he said. "You've been a bad boy, haven't you, Ryou---lying to your father. I bet you didn't even tell him how, when the thief was just a spirit, he possessed your body to help him take over the world."

Now both Bakura and his father went pale. Mr. Bakura came around from his desk, staring first at the stranger, then at his son. "Is this true?" he exclaimed.

Bakura suddenly felt sick. He averted his gaze, instead looking emptily at the floor.

Yami Bakura snarled, shooting the gleeful Yami Marik a look filled with hate.

Mr. Bakura fell back in horror. "Then . . . it is true," he moaned. "You'd say if it wasn't. . . ."

Bakura could only give a weak shake of his head. "It's . . . not true any more," he stammered. He looked up, pleading and desperation in his eyes. "He's changed! Father, you've seen he cares for me. He went far out of his way to save my life from the White Death serial killer. He nearly died because of it!"

Mr. Bakura was only half-listening. He staggered back, overwhelmed. "Of all the houseguests we could have, we end up with a parasite!" he exclaimed. "And it's all because I brought back that cursed Ring. . . ."

"You shut up too," Yami Bakura growled. Now he, also, was at a loss. He had not really thought they could always keep the full truth from the man, but he had never imagined it would come out like this. He just wanted complete quiet so he could think it over.

Mr. Bakura stiffened. "Now, you listen here!" he cried. "I will not be treated with such disrespect in my own home, particularly by someone who shouldn't even be here in the first place."

"'Shouldn't be here'?!" Yami Bakura shot back. "If I hadn't been, your son would have been all alone, thanks to you! I was the one who looked after him and was there for him. He latched on to me in your absence. Can you even begin to comprehend his loneliness?"

"No, I really can't!" Mr. Bakura said. "He was scraping the bottom of the barrel for company. I'll never be able to forgive myself for this."

Bakura dug his hands into his hair. "Father! Yami!" he wailed. "Please stop. Don't argue like this!" He reached out, grabbing hold of their arms. "We need to talk this over rationally!"

_"Rationally?!"_ Mr. Bakura burst out. "You've been looking to a megalomaniacal thief for companionship and you're telling _me_ to feel rational?!"

"He's not like that!" Bakura retorted.

"Be quiet, both of you!"

Father and son froze and turned to stare at Yami Bakura, who was now lunging at Yami Marik as the wretch reached for the box on the desk. Yami Bakura tackled him around the waist, bringing him to the floor. But Yami Marik snarled and then sneered. He had swiped the artifact right in the process of being assaulted. Now he used it to strike Yami Bakura between his shoulder blades. The thief growled.

"Yami!" Bakura exclaimed in alarm. He looked to his father. "This was a setup!" he realized. "That horrible thing was trying to get us occupied arguing with each other so we wouldn't see what he was doing!"

Mr. Bakura quickly got over his shock. He leaped into the fray, grabbing for the stone box even as Yami Bakura tried to wrench around Yami Marik's arm. Yami Marik kicked the muscular Egyptian in the abdomen, his expression twisted in sadistic delight.

Bakura stood watching in horror. How could he just let this disaster take place without even trying to do something? But what could he do? And how could he attempt anything without just getting in the way? The brawl on the floor was a wild tangle of flying arms and legs and curses.

His eyes narrowed. Grabbing a wooden pencil box from off the desk, he dove into the mess and looked for wild blond spikes. When he saw them, he brought the container down right in the midst of them.

Yami Marik stiffened, stunned. The box slipped from his grasp to clatter on the floor. But as Bakura and the others gathered around, it became horrifyingly clear that it was too late.

"He's already managed to fit the pendant into place!" Yami Bakura cried. The talisman was now within the indentation, where it clicked perfectly. Every hieroglyph was glowing a bright turquoise, as was the space immediately beneath the lid. And the lid was starting to rise of its own accord.

Yami Bakura snarled, shooting out his hand to push it back down. In furious retaliation it blasted back at him, channeling electricity throughout his body. He flew back against the wall, slumping to the floor.

"Yami!" Bakura exclaimed in horror. He got up, running towards his dazed friend.

Yami Bakura looked up, his eyes widening. "Look out, you fool!" he yelled.

Time seemed to slow to a stop right there. Bakura was still running, his eyes wide and worried. Mr. Bakura was trying to shield himself from the increasingly bright light. And Yami Marik was sitting on the floor, laughing, laughing. . . .

Then it all melted away.

****

"Yami?! Oh please wake up, Yami!"

For the second time that day, Yami Bakura growled as he forced his eyes open. Bakura was kneeling in front of him, a hand on his shoulder. Around them, a cool breeze swept past, hitting Yami Bakura full in the face.

. . . A _breeze?!_ Had someone opened a window? Or worse, had the house blown up and they were newly outside?

Yami Bakura came more awake, staring at their surroundings in disbelief. They were not in the house, nor were they on its property. In fact, he did not know _where_ they were. He was slumped against a tree, the only one in what seemed to be a large field. The grass was mostly browning and dry and was being consumed by equally dry wheat-like weeds that were springing up in all directions. Mr. Bakura was just to the side, surveying everything in sheer disbelief.

Yami Marik and the box were nowhere to be seen.

"What happened?!" Yami Bakura demanded, pushing himself away from the tree trunk.

Bakura fell back, looking worried. "I don't know," he said. "Father and I just woke up here a few minutes ago!" He swallowed hard. "But . . . where is 'here'?"

"We'll never find out if we just stay in this field," Yami Bakura said. He pushed himself up, using the tree as a support. "You haven't seen that wretch at all?"

"No," Bakura said, feeling helpless. "And Father's artifact---it's gone!" He wrung his hands. "He must have taken it."

"That can only bode trouble," Yami Bakura snarled. "As if we don't have enough."

Mr. Bakura shook his head, turning to look at them. "This doesn't look like any part of Domino City that I'm familiar with," he said. "We're just going to have to try walking and see if we can find someone who'll give us directions." He regarded Yami Bakura in distaste, not wanting to even have him come with them now that he knew what had been kept from him. What other dark secrets did he still not know?

Yami Bakura returned the look with a dark glower. "We're going to have to stick together," he said, as if in deliberate defiance of Mr. Bakura's unspoken thoughts. "There's no telling where we are or what we might have to face. Or . . ." He glanced at the Infinity Ring. ". . . If you will have need of me."

"Of course you're coming with us, Yami!" Bakura exclaimed as he stood. He stared into the lavender eyes in determination. "Even if you won't need to use the Ring's powers, we . . . or anyway, _I_ . . . have need of you." His voice lowered. "I won't leave my friend behind."

Yami Bakura looked back at him. Foolish boy, caring so much for a hate-driven, battle-scarred thief such as he.

. . . Foolish _thief,_ caring so much for this kind, innocent boy.

Mr. Bakura ran his hands into his hair. "I'm willing to concede that this isn't the time for our disagreement," he said. "Ryou was right---it was because we were arguing that that . . . whatever it was, was able to use the box and bring us here. So . . . as much as I don't like the thought of working with you, we'll have to call our truce again."

"Well, it's good to see you have _some_ sense," Yami Bakura grumped.

Mr. Bakura opened his mouth to retort, but then reconsidered. "Let's just go," he said.

Bakura nodded firmly to end the matter.

Soon the trio was on their way. They moved as fast as they could, brushing past countless weeds that snapped back and then across their legs. Mr. Bakura stayed in the lead, looking in desperation for the exit. Overhead, the sunless and mostly-cloudy sky grew darker.

"Oh, just what we need, a rainstorm," Mr. Bakura muttered.

"Why not throw in thunder and lightning while you're at it?" Yami Bakura returned.

A furious rumble answered him.

Bakura jumped a mile. "We're in a terrible place to ride out a storm!" he gasped. "What are we going to do?!"

"For now? Run!" Yami Bakura ordered. "If we make it to the road, perhaps someone will give us a ride."

"I wouldn't pick up strangers on the road," Mr. Bakura said.

"Obviously some people are still that foolish or we wouldn't still be hearing about hitchhiking murderers!" Yami Bakura called back.

"Is that your idea of an encouraging thought?!" Mr. Bakura cried.

"Please!" Bakura yelled, his nerves beginning to pull taut. "The truce!"

But all of them froze as the grass and weeds ahead of them rustled. To their shock, an enormous black bird rose from its hiding place with a loud and accusatory _Caw!_ It ascended above them, flapping its immense wings in fury.

Bakura threw up his arms to shield his face as he fell back. "What on earth is that?!" he exclaimed.

"If I had to guess, a large crow," Yami Bakura answered, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"The force of its wind pressure is going to send all of _us_ flying!" Mr. Bakura burst out. "It's as big as a house!" He struggled to move against the intense power to get in front of Bakura, but it was almost impossible.

Yami Bakura clenched his teeth as his red robe blew out around him. "Ring, vanquish this creature!" he ordered.

The Infinity Ring glowed, sending out a strong blast that caught the bird in its chest. It soared backwards, crashing somewhere ahead.

Mr. Bakura grabbed his son's wrist. "Let's get out of here!" he said. "We'll have to go another way."

Bakura looked up, giving a firm nod of agreement.

But they had barely moved several feet when the air was filled with angry _caws._ A flock of crows, each one just as large as the one the Infinity Ring had blasted, were coating the sky black and concealing all evidence of the approaching thunderstorm. They split into four groups, descending upon the humans from all angles.

Bakura cried out in horror. "We're done for!" he exclaimed.

Yami Bakura snarled. He would never be able to protect them against all of these beasts! But that did not mean he was not going to try. If he died here, he would die fighting. The Infinity Ring began to glow once more.

One crow went down, followed by two more. But the other birds only shrieked louder in rage as they closed in. No matter how many Yami Bakura managed to fell, there were plenty to fill the voids.

Bakura shut his eyes tightly as his father pulled him close. This was it. This had to be the end for all of them.

"Creatures, begone!"

The crows stiffened at the sound of the new voice. As a new, deep blue light filled the sky, they turned and fled, loose feathers falling from their wings to the ground.

Yami Bakura whirled to look in the direction of the light. Stunned, Bakura and his father did as well.

A short distance from them, standing atop a small hill, was a woman with long, flowing blue hair and a white gown of rich material. Around her neck, a pendant that was a matching shade of blue was glowing. With the danger dispersed, she gathered her heavy skirts and hurried across the dying grass to the amazed party.

"Are you alright?" she called.

Bakura blinked in surprise. "She speaks English," he observed. He waved in relief. "Yes!" he called back. "Thank you!"

She arrived in front of them, studying each of them in equal amazement. "You're not from around here, are you?" she breathed, her gaze traveling over their clothes.

Bakura shifted, uncomfortable with her assessment. "Well, no . . ."

"What could have possibly given us away?" Yami Bakura said ironically, crossing his arms.

She ignored his tone. "How did you get here?" she demanded.

"We're not sure," Mr. Bakura spoke. "Some madman was responsible." The wheels were turning in his head. For her to be able to use magic, or whatever she had used, maybe she would know about the box. Or at least, maybe the mention of it would not cause her to think them insane.

Her eyes widened. "Did he use the forbidden magic?!" she asked.

"Most likely," Yami Bakura growled. "Tell us, woman, where are we? And who are you?"

"Yami, don't be rude," Bakura admonished under his breath.

The stranger drew a deep breath. "I'm so sorry; I should have introduced myself," she said. "I am Sapphire, queen of this land, Juno."

"Queen!" Bakura gasped in surprise. They were in the presence of royalty?!

"I've never heard of such a place," Mr. Bakura said. He was less surprised about their rescuer's occupation than he was about their location. But then again, part of him still could not comprehend what had actually happened to them.

"No," Sapphire agreed, "I'm sure all news of this world has been lost in yours. We haven't heard news from your world in a very long time." She sighed. "This is a cursed land only accessible by those who have tremendous magical powers . . . or who can harness them from another source."

Mr. Bakura stared. "I'm sorry, but we don't belong here," he said. "Do you know the way out?"

Sapphire looked at him and the other newcomers with regret. "I'm afraid that now that you've been brought here from your world, there is no way for you to return home unless you can find the Door," she said. "That is also part of the curse. Long in the past, people were able to pass back and forth freely, but that hasn't been possible since before the time of the forbidden magic. The Door was eventually put in place for the safety of those in both worlds."

"Preposterous!" Yami Bakura snapped, his eyes flashing. He was quickly growing livid. "The _Door?!_ Where would we find such a thing?"

"I don't know." Sapphire looked him in his eyes, not offended by his outburst. "I didn't make the rules. I would never have fashioned such a stipulation. It's unfair to you, and to the others who have come here over the ages, but I don't know how to break the spell. That's out of my power."

"Wait a minute, 'the others'?" Mr. Bakura repeated.

Sapphire nodded. "Other people from your world have become trapped here," she said. "They haven't been able to break the curse, so they've lived out their lives and died in this world foreign to them."

Bakura stepped forward. "We can't let that happen to us!" he exclaimed. "If finding this Door is the only way home, then we must do it!" He looked to Yami Bakura and his father. "Right now, we really don't have a choice," he said with a sad smile.

Yami Bakura growled, while Mr. Bakura frowned. But before either of them could voice their opinions, Sapphire turned.

"Come," she said. "It's going to storm any minute. And the lightning is deadly; anything it touches perishes in an instant. The royal carriage is just ahead; I'll take you with me back to the palace and you can think things over as much as you want."

Mr. Bakura took a deep breath. "That seems our only option for now," he said. "We can't be struck by the lightning. And we shouldn't be out even in a normal storm."

Bakura nodded. "Let's go," he said.

Yami Bakura still looked furious. But even he could see that there was nothing to be done. To resist at this point would be foolishly stubborn and could cost them their lives.

"Only for now," he said. "But I will find a way to shatter the curse without us having to risk our lives on such a pointless quest."

"Good luck," Mr. Bakura said matter-of-factly, as they followed the queen.

Above them, the thunder rumbled.


	3. The Rain Beats at the Door

**Notes: Funny thing is, for a brief moment in my first draft of chapter 1, the box was actually supposed to be Pandora's Box.**

**Chapter Three**

**The Rain Beats at the Door**

**Prompt: #1 - **_**Discovering Magic**_

The royal carriage was an exquisite piece of workmanship, all in white with gold trim above the wheels, around the doors, and over and in front of the place where the driver sat. Two lanterns were placed on either side, both lit in anticipation of the oncoming storm.

Bakura was already fascinated by the vehicle as they approached, but as he caught sight of what was pulling it, his eyes widened to twice their size.

Two white Pegasus unicorns were harnessed to the carriage. Unlike the classic unicorns of legend, they did not sport cloven hooves or lion's tails or billy-goat beards; they were closest in appearance to horses. However, they were larger than any equine Bakura had ever seen on Earth; each looked able to easily carry three or four people on its back. But in the end, they really were like any other horses; as the group climbed into the carriage, one whinnied while the other swished its tail.

"They're amazing," Bakura said in fascination. Outside, the driver snapped the reins. The Pegasus unicorns responded, trotting off while pulling the carriage behind them as if it was no effort at all.

Sapphire smiled. "The Kioli are among Juno's most useful and most gentle creatures," she said. "Usually they take the carriage through the air, but with the storm, we won't do that today."

"Through the _air?!_" Mr. Bakura exclaimed.

Sapphire was amused. "Is your world devoid of magic and fantastic things?" she asked. "The box of the forbidden magic has, to my knowledge, been kept in your world."

"Oh, there's 'fantastic things'," Yami Bakura sneered. "Magic, too. But it isn't always out in the open, as it is here. Once upon a time it was commonplace, however."

Sapphire turned to study him, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "There's something different about you," she mused. "I mean . . . somehow, you don't seem the same as these other two."

"He's different, alright," Mr. Bakura muttered.

"Father," Bakura groaned.

Yami Bakura just looked entertained. "And what is it you sense?" he said, folding his arms. "Is this difference a good or a bad thing?"

Sapphire looked slightly embarrassed. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "But you can use magic, can't you?"

"I don't inherently possess it," Yami Bakura said. "However, I can use it, yes."

Sapphire glanced at the Infinity Ring visible under his robe. "I can feel a strong white magic essence from your item," she said.

"The item may be endowed with white magic, but don't take that to mean I am a good person," Yami Bakura sneered.

"I saw you were using it to defend against the crows," Sapphire said. "Someone without good intentions would turn the white magic dark. It still looked untainted."

"If I wasn't using the item in a way it wanted, it would kill me," Yami Bakura said. "That's good enough motivation to not attempt to conquer the world or some other such thing."

"Speaking of the crows," Mr. Bakura interrupted. "Why are they so large?"

Sapphire shook her head. "It's always been that way here," she said. "You notice the Kioli are larger than your Earth horses, too."

"It's fascinating," Bakura said. "But frightening when you know some of the creatures want to make you their dinner!"

Sapphire grimly nodded. "My four-year-old son has no concept of danger," she said. "He's so curious about the birds and other creatures that he wanders out of the palace looking for them." She sighed, shaking her head. "I'm afraid for his safety every day."

"And what about your own safety?" Yami Bakura mused.

She blinked at him in confusion. "My own?" she repeated.

"You don't seem to care if you put yourself in harm's way," Yami Bakura said. "Going outside the palace before a deadly storm, even pausing to beat back a flock of crows attacking strangers to your kingdom. . . . It doesn't seem a very wise thing for a ruler to do."

"It isn't," she agreed. "But I always go out before a fatal storm hits. I have to make sure no one's wandering without shelter."

"Someone wanting to seize your throne could take advantage of that," Yami Bakura mused. "They could pretend to need your help when they actually want to destroy you."

"Yes," Sapphire said, "that's true." She gave a wry smile. "That's why my advisers are always telling me not to do it. But I don't like delegating responsibility. If I know I can get something done on my own, I'd rather do it myself."

"If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, hmm?" Yami Bakura smirked, darkly amused.

Sapphire looked uncomfortable. "No, that isn't it," she protested.

"Yami!" Bakura chided.

"I have a right to say my part," the thief answered.

Bakura sighed. "Well, yes, but . . . you're offending royalty!" he exclaimed.

"I was 'royalty', once upon a time," Yami Bakura sneered, tipping his head back and looking down at Bakura.

The boy facepalmed. Deciding it better to leave it alone, he turned away. He glanced out the window as the carriage approached a glistening white structure with multiple spires and towers. It was a castle, one that looked to be made of both marble and crystal. The lightning, though deadly as it flashed in the sky, lit up the edifice in an almost ethereal way. Every spot the light fell upon sparkled in an array of colors and hues---blue, pink, red, purple, green, and something that transcended and encompassed them all at once.

The Kioli came to a stop as they passed under a protective overhang supported by thick pillars. Sapphire stepped out, then waited for the others to alight.

"I'll take you to the library," she said. "I'll show you what our researchers have learned about the Door over time. And . . ." She shot them a worried glance. "I'll need you to tell me more about the villain who sent you here. Do you know who he is?"

"Unfortunately," Yami Bakura growled.

They began walking under the man-made canopy, safe as the rain pelted around them. Just ahead, the shielded steps of the palace's rain doors were visible.

"Who is he?" Sapphire persisted. "I'm worried he might be one of the dark sorcerers wanted by our law for crimes against Juno." She gripped her pendant as she said this, acute worry flashing through her light-blue eyes.

"I doubt that," Yami Bakura said. "He's from our world and was created there---a being of nothing but anger and hatred and sadistic pleasure."

Sapphire's eyes widened. As they reached the stairs, she stopped and turned to look at him. "Such things really exist?!" she gasped. "I prayed it was only a legend."

"He's the only one of his kind that we're aware of in the modern day," Yami Bakura said. There was no need to tell her about the monsters created by the souls of humans in ancient Egypt. He really did not want to mention that he was from an ancient time to begin with, if it could at all be avoided.

Mr. Bakura was gawking again, reading between the lines of the thief's words. "He's a Duel Monster?!" he gasped.

Bakura felt like slapping his forehead, but restrained himself. "No, Father," he said. "It's . . . oh my, it's complicated. . . ." He trailed off, suddenly overwhelmed. How were they ever going to explain that Yami Marik was a split personality that had developed enough independence and intelligence to become his own person?

"Duel Monster?" Sapphire looked back and forth between them in confusion.

"That isn't important," Yami Bakura growled. "Let's just get inside."

Sapphire studied him appraisingly, but then nodded. Her eyes, however, said that she was not content with these bits and pieces of information. She wanted to know more. If this creature had sent these three here, he must be a threat to the land and the people she loved.

The ascent up the stairs was swift. Sapphire went ahead, thrusting open the heavy doors at the top before stepping inside. Then Bakura caught sight of a small blur rushing to hug her.

"Mommy!" the blur exclaimed. "I knew you'd be coming in the rain doors, so I waited!"

Smiling, Sapphire embraced her son. "How was your day, Kade?" she asked.

The child pulled back, his face twisted in thought. "Kinda boring," he said matter-of-factly. "I wanted to go out!"

"Maybe tomorrow," Sapphire said, "if the storm's passed. But . . ." She gave a conspiratorial smile. "I do have a surprise."

"A 'prise?" Kade stared. "What is it?!"

She straightened. "For tonight, we have guests!" she announced brightly.

Kade's eyes went wide. "Really?!" He peered around his mother at the just-entering trio. "Are you the guests?"

Bakura scratched his cheek. "Yes, I suppose we are," he said.

Kade clapped his hands. "Yay!" He grinned. "You've gotta come see my room, and the 'brary, and the k'chen, and . . ."

"One thing at a time, Kade," Sapphire broke in, smiling. "I need to talk to our guests in the library, but then you're welcome to take them on a tour."

"Aww . . ." Kade looked disappointed, but then promptly brightened. "Okay! I'll go get it ready." And he ran off down the marble hall, jumping up the stairs two at a time.

Amused, Sapphire looked back to the others. "He's so full of enthusiasm," she said. She sobered. "I just hope that he never has to lose that childlike innocence."

Yami Bakura grunted, not speaking. When Bakura looked to him, he blinked in surprise. The Egyptian was staring towards the stairs where Kade had vanished, but he was not looking at them at all. His mind was far away. Bakura was about to say something when Sapphire's next words interrupted him.

"Let's move on to the library," the queen said. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much about the Door, but I'll share all that I can."

Yami Bakura snapped back to the present. "Fine," he growled. "Let's go then."

Mr. Bakura shot him an odd look as they proceeded down the hall. If Yami Bakura realized, he did not acknowledge it.

****

The library was what Bakura had imagined and more. Strong wooden and marble shelves went around every wall, with many more set up in rows throughout the room. Tables and chairs had been placed at intervals for easy studying of the tomes. Softly-glowing ornate lamps were both on the tables and overhead. It was every bit as big as at least a small public library, and, Bakura was sure, really much bigger.

Sapphire reached for a switch on the wall. As she turned it, all the lights brightened to a comfortable reading level.

Bakura was again surprised. "You have electricity!" he said in amazement.

Sapphire nodded. "It's a carry-over from the old days," she said. "Originally this world was founded by explorers from Atlantis, and before that civilization fell to ruin, they invented many modern conveniences."

Mr. Bakura turned to stare at her. "Excuse me, Atlantis?" he repeated.

"Yes." Now she looked somewhat sad. "I've heard that it's little more than a myth in your world now."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Mr. Bakura stammered as he answered. "Y-yes, that's true," he said. "But there are still those who believe in it. Unfortunately, I can't say I've ever been one of them. . . ."

"It's alright," Sapphire said. "I doubt there's any evidence left to point to its existence." As she spoke, she led them around the far right of the library and to a half-open door. The room beyond held nothing more than a long conference table and padded chairs made of white wood.

Bakura, however, was enthralled. "This is amazing!" he exclaimed as he entered the meeting room. "I've never seen wood such as this." He ran his hand over the top and side of the chair nearest to him, feeling both the smoothness and the natural bumps and knots under his fingers. Then, as if catching himself, he flamed red.

"I'm sorry," he apologized as he looked up. "Maybe I wasn't supposed to touch the chairs. . . ." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I do a little wood-carving here and there, and I couldn't help but notice how unique your furniture is. . . ."

Sapphire smiled. "I planned that we'd go in there to talk, as soon as I collect a few books," she said. Turning to a nearby shelf, she removed several heavy volumes and laid them flat on the shelf. "These are what we'll need."

"I'll help carry them in," Mr. Bakura offered.

"That's good of you," Sapphire said. "Yes, please do."

Soon the small group was gathered at the table, the books in the center. Sapphire opened a large one filled with colored pictures and detailed maps.

"As I said, no one has been able to find the Door," she began. "But there is a path taken by those who have tried to locate it. It starts here." She traced a road leading West of the palace.

"The first stop is to see an old wizard who will determine if you're even worthy to take the quest. If you are, he will give you directions to your next stop and advice for the future. If you're not, you're still welcome to try, but you're likely to fall into foreboding paths and even madness."

Yami Bakura snorted. Bakura would be worthy, perhaps his father too, but he was certain he would not be counted as such. And then what would happen if he journeyed with the other two? Would he cause them to wander aimlessly just by being there when he should not?

"And how do you find the wizard?" he grunted.

"He lives deep in this forest," Sapphire said, pointing on the map. "You'll need one of the forest fairies to be your guide."

_"Fairies,"_ Yami Bakura growled under his breath. This was turning into more of a nightmare every minute. He would rather deal with more of those giant crows.

"Aren't fairies generally unwilling to help humans?" Mr. Bakura asked, feeling ridiculous to even be discussing the subject. Fairies belonged in storybooks, not in real lands. But then again, the three of them did not belong in this land to begin with, so in the end maybe it all evened out.

"You will have to prove that you don't bring any ill will," Sapphire said. "Most fairies here are just mischievous, but there are a few dark fairies who like torturing humans for the fun of it."

_They should partner with Yami Marik,_ Yami Bakura thought sarcastically.

"Oh my," Bakura said aloud, his brown eyes wide and worried.

Sapphire looked apologetic. "I'm afraid I don't know where you should go after leaving the wizard," she said. "I've heard he gives different directions to each group."

"How is that possible?" Yami Bakura frowned. "Are there multiple roads leading to the same place?"

"Something like that," Sapphire said. "I guess."

"How does he determine your worthiness, anyway?" Bakura wondered.

"I'm not sure," Sapphire admitted. "Some have said they're put through some kind of a mental test. Others say he just looks at them and announces his findings. Maybe it all depends on how ready the person is for such a journey. Some of them might need more preparation than others, hence the test."

Bakura sighed. "Well, we can't leave until the storm is over," he said. "And . . ." He straightened up, concerned. "What do we do if we're searching for the Door and another storm comes?"

"There are storm shelters, both man-made and natural, all over Juno," Sapphire said. "Hopefully you'll be able to find something. But if you can't . . . I'm afraid you'll have to make do as best as you can."

Mr. Bakura drew one of the other books to him. "What are these for?" he wondered. _A History of Juno_ was imprinted on the dark-blue cover.

"Well, while they aren't necessary for your quest, some things in them might make it easier," Sapphire said. "They tell about our lands and foods, our wars and our rulers."

"That would be useful," Bakura agreed. "Especially about the lands and the food."

"Speaking of food, you must join us for dinner tonight," Sapphire smiled. "And there are rooms in the guest quarters. It's going to be dark soon, even if the storm stops. You shouldn't try to leave until morning, at least."

"Thank you," Mr. Bakura said. "You're very generous to strangers."

"And don't think I'm not grateful, but I have to wonder why," Yami Bakura spoke. "You have no way of knowing that we're decent people, aside from what you said about my item's white magic. We could be a danger to you and your child."

"You could be," Sapphire agreed. "But while of course I can't know for sure, I strongly sense that you're all what you say you are." She looked to each in turn, then gave a conspiratorial smile. "Anyway . . . I may have some other secrets I haven't told you."

"That would be better for you," Yami Bakura said. "A wise person would never reveal all their secrets."

Sapphire nodded. "But there's still something I want to know from you," she said, clasping her hands on the table. "How did this . . . creature get hold of the forbidden magic? Or the key that unlocks it?"

"I'm afraid we don't know," Bakura said, his voice and face apologetic. "He doesn't like to reveal his secrets either, unless the truth will hurt us somehow. And we didn't even know the box of . . . forbidden magic existed until last night."

The queen sighed. "Oh well . . . all truths will be revealed in time," she said. "We'll just have to pray it happens before events take a drastic turn."

Mr. Bakura frowned. "If we could get hold of the box and the . . . er, key . . . would we be able to use them to get home instead of the Door?" he wondered.

"You should," Sapphire agreed. "But the only one who can wield the key is a man of great power and will, whether good or bad. So for this man to be able to use it, and then disappear with it . . . it's really a grave concern." She shook her head, her long blue tresses swishing with the motion. "There's other magic in the box, much more. And it could all be used to bring devastation to both our worlds."

"It sounds like Pandora's Box," Mr. Bakura said, still frowning.

Sapphire looked at him in confusion. "What is that?" she queried.

"In the mythology of Greece . . . a land from our world . . . it's a box that holds all the sorrow and misfortune in the world," Mr. Bakura explained. "And then a woman named Pandora opens it and lets it all out."

Sapphire gave a weak smile. "Yes, I guess it is like that," she said.

Now she started to ease herself up from the chair. "Study these books all you need," she said. "But I'm sure Kade will be down soon, eager for that tour." She chuckled.

Bakura chuckled too. "Yes, I imagine so. He certainly is cheerful, not shy at all."

"He's always been like that," Sapphire said. "And I hope he always will be."

After she had left, Bakura leaned over the table. "What do you think about this, Yami?" he asked.

"I think it's ridiculous," Yami Bakura growled. "But we don't have much choice, do we?"

Mr. Bakura shook his head. "It's incredible," he said, half to himself. "Look at this place." He stared at one of the colored maps. "It's been around all this time, lost to our knowledge. This is an amazing discovery."

"It's amazing, alright," Bakura said. "But still . . . I can't help worrying. How does Yami Marik know about it?"

Yami Bakura glowered at the map. "We're likely to find out," he said.

"Do you think he's here too?!" Bakura exclaimed.

"It's possible," Yami Bakura said. "I can't believe he isn't watching, somehow. After all, what fun would it be for him to try to torment us without seeing what we're going through?"

Mr. Bakura looked up, disturbed. "Do you think he's followed us here?" he said.

"I don't know." Yami Bakura folded his arms. "I just know I don't like this. Any of this."

Bakura sighed, leaning back in the chair. "Well . . . maybe tonight, at least, won't be so bad," he said. "The queen's son should be a welcome distraction."

"Maybe." Yami Bakura stared into the distance, saying nothing more.


	4. Inside the Magic Holds

**Chapter Four**

**Inside the Magic Holds**

**Prompt: #12 - **_**Emerald Streams**_

_"I'll never forgive you!"_

Yami Bakura shot upright in the fancy bed, the silk comforter slipping from his bare shoulders. Breathing heavily, he stared out at the darkened room, lit only by the moonlight through the window. Then he slumped back into the soft pillow, passing a hand over his eyes.

A recurring dream, eh? That was worse than ever. He did not want to see this every night. The more he saw it, the more it was going to bother him. And he had really almost forgotten it since last night. To be reminded so suddenly brought all of his past feelings concerning it on him again. As if he did not have enough to think about.

He growled, rolling onto his side. What had Yami Marik done to them? Trapped in a world with giant crows and wizards and _fairies,_ forced to set out on a quest for a Door that no one had ever passed. . . . And he could not shake the feeling that the wretch was always watching them. It made him feel like a specimen under a microscope.

Not to mention that something still felt wrong to him about this whole set-up. Why would the queen go out looking for trouble? Why would she bring strangers to the palace without a second thought? She seemed righteous and noble, but was she really? And had she told them the truth about anything that was happening in this crazy land?

After dinner, she had told them they needed to beware of Fafnir's men on their journey. He was a man revered by the people as a national hero, yet was secretly trying to usurp the kingdom for himself. No evil deeds could be directly linked to his name, but there was a small group of rebels in one of the villages who were trying to prove his guilt.

Yami Bakura was inclined to take everything with a grain of salt. Perhaps Fafnir was the villain, but on the other hand, perhaps he was the hero and the queen was the villain, with a devious ulterior motive behind her seeming goodness.

Or perhaps Yami Bakura was just a suspicious old grouch.

He stiffened, coming to attention at the sound of the door inching open. A stream of light entered at the edge of the room, a familiar shadow appearing within it.

"What is it?" he growled.

The silhouetted form belonging to the shadow froze. "I'm sorry, Yami," Bakura apologized. "I . . . I couldn't sleep and I wondered if you were awake. . . ."

Yami Bakura tiredly gestured with his hand. "Come in," he said.

Bakura hesitated. "If you were trying to sleep . . ."

"I'm wide awake. Come in or go out."

Bakura slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He stepped onto the woven rug, then walked over to the bed and sank onto the edge of the mattress.

"It's so strange here, Yami," he said quietly, staring at the floor. The pajamas he had been given hung loosely on his slender frame, somehow making him look even more dejected than he actually was.

"That's an understatement." Yami Bakura came up on one elbow, watching him. The boy looked so bewildered and lost.

Bakura turned to give him a sideways look. "What do you think will happen to us tomorrow?" he wondered. "When we find the wizard and he tests us. . . ."

"I've never been tested by a wizard, unless Karim using the Millennium Scales on my soul counts," Yami Bakura said, his tone deliberately sardonic. "And we know how that went in the end."

"You're different now," Bakura protested. "And even then, you had a perfect right to be angry, to hate. . . ." He shook his head. "I'm just so worried. What if we can't get home?"

Yami Bakura sat up straight. "We'll get home," he said, gruff now. He felt awkward; being comforting was certainly not a strong point of his. And yet Bakura kept coming to him.

Bakura gave a weak smile. "I suppose it's terribly selfish of me, but . . . I'm really glad I'm not here alone," he said.

"Misery loves company," Yami Bakura returned.

Bakura chuckled in spite of himself. "That's not really what I meant," he said. "I don't want anyone to be miserable with me; it's just . . ." He trailed off, thinking. "It's easier to be strong when you're not alone," he finished. "When there's someone there you need to be strong for."

"Bah!" Yami Bakura rested his arm on his knee as he drew it halfway to his chest. "There's always someone you need to be strong for---yourself. You don't want to show weakness to yourself, do you?"

Bakura shifted. "Well, no . . . of course not," he said.

He looked worried again. "I wonder what we're going to do about Father now," he said. "I'm afraid he doesn't trust you at all because of that horrible Yami Marik." And he sighed. "But still . . . I suppose I am kind of glad the truth is out. I never did like keeping it from him."

"There's really nothing we can 'do' about him," Yami Bakura said. "If he doesn't trust me, he just doesn't. I can't control that and neither can you."

"I know. . . ." Bakura looked sad. "But he was just starting to warm up to you a little. I don't want him to feel like you're our enemy. . . ."

Yami Bakura sighed. "If there's any way to correct it, it will just happen by itself over time," he said.

"I suppose you're right." But Bakura sounded mostly resigned and not very pleased with the answer.

He leaned back, unable to keep from yawning. "Oh my," he said somewhere through it.

"You're tired," Yami Bakura grunted. "You should sleep. It's going to be a long day."

"I know." Bakura sighed now, closing his eyes. "I feel exhausted, and yet I don't feel that certain exhaustion that leads to sleep. I've been lying awake for ages." Without really thinking, he laid down on the bed's edge, resting his head against one of the large pillows.

"I doubt we'll ever sleep in a place like this again," he remarked, toying with the opening of the pillowcase.

"Highly unlikely," Yami Bakura said.

"Yami . . ." Bakura sounded sleepier. "Did you ever sleep in fancy places like this in Egypt?"

Yami Bakura stared at him. "What a ridiculous question," he muttered.

"Well . . . I thought maybe you snuck into someone's house sometime and . . ." Bakura yawned again. "Slept in their bed when they weren't home. . . ."

"I never did," Yami Bakura grunted. "What foolish thoughts."

Bakura did not reply.

The thief looked at him in irritation. "Don't tell me you've fallen asleep in _my_ bed," he grumbled, staring hard.

But at last his expression softened---slightly. "Foolish boy," he muttered, reaching over to lift Bakura's legs onto the bed. Bakura only burrowed deeper into the mattress. Rolling his eyes, Yami Bakura covered Bakura with half the quilt and then rolled over, moving to the other side of the mammoth bed.

_I'm far too soft in my old age,_ he said to himself.

After laying awake a short while longer, he too, fell asleep.

****

The rest of the night and the early morning passed in peace. The travelers had breakfast in the royal dining room before packing the supplies they had been granted by the queen. Though the sky was overcast, the clouds did not look as ominous as they had the previous day. But of course, that could change in an instant. Umbrellas and a make-shift rain shelter were added to the supplies before the group was ready to leave.

Sapphire and Kade stood at the top of the west stairs, watching as the party made their way to the bottom. Kade waved, but he looked worried.

"The forest's s'pposed to be Mr. Ghost's house!" he exclaimed. "Aren't you scared?"

Bakura chuckled. "Maybe I will be when we get there," he said.

"Bah!" Yami Bakura grumbled. "Ghosts." _If you only knew, child,_ he said to himself.

"Stay safe," Sapphire said quietly. "I'm afraid ghosts may be the least of your worries on your quest. But if you start to lose your way in the forest, just listen for the emerald stream."

"Emerald stream?" Bakura blinked in surprise.

"It's really pretty," Kade beamed. "A big, bright green!" He stretched his arms wide.

Mr. Bakura nodded. "Thank you for all of your help," he said, looking to the queen. "If there's anything we can do to repay you . . ."

Sapphire smiled. "I only ask one thing in return," she said. "That you make sure that creature doesn't bring about the ruin of this country."

"We'll do our best," Bakura said. "We might not see him again until we find the Door."

Yami Bakura remained silent, but he was certain they would be seeing Yami Marik sooner than that.

Much sooner.

****

The forest looked uninviting even from a distance. The dark trees stood close together, their branches interlocking and all but blocking out the light. The opening looked more like a black hole. Somewhere inside, something rustled and something else yowled.

"Something doesn't feel right about this place," Mr. Bakura said as they drew closer. "I mean . . . besides the obvious." He frowned. "It feels like something doesn't want us to enter."

"The very forest itself is rebuking us," Yami Bakura said. "My Ring is responding to it." He glanced at the Infinity Ring, which was steadily glowing and waning, a cycle that continued to repeat on end.

Bakura stared. "But why?" he gasped. "We aren't going to do anything wrong."

"The queen said we have to prove ourselves to the fairies," Yami Bakura said. "Perhaps we have to prove ourselves to the forest as well."

"And how do we do that?" Mr. Bakura exclaimed. "I doubt talking is going to do much good."

Bakura frowned, gazing up at the trees. Somehow they seemed so stern and cold, as if looking down in disapproval. An involuntary shudder passed through his body.

". . . Maybe we're not supposed to take anything inside that could damage the forest?" he suggested.

The trees' boughs moved calmly up and down, as if in agreement.

"And what would that be?" Yami Bakura growled, folding his arms. "Even my Ring could potentially damage the forest, and I can't take it off."

Now the trees moved their boughs up and down in fury, creating a giant breeze in his direction. He cursed in Egyptian, pulling on the edge of his kilt to keep it down while shielding his eyes at the same time.

"Blast it, I _can't_ take it off!" he yelled. "I'm only mortal as long as I wear it!"

"And Shadi gave it to him!" Bakura exclaimed. "I don't suppose that name means anything in this world, but in our world he's a very wise and just person! Please, we swear we don't bring any harm to anything in this forest!"

"Not unless it brings harm to us first," Yami Bakura snarled.

The trees blew at him again, this time knocking him right off his feet by the force of their collected wind pressure.

Mr. Bakura gawked. Bakura ran over in concern.

"Yami!" he exclaimed, kneeling down to help the tomb-robber up.

Yami Bakura sat up on the grass, gripping the blades between his fingers. "Do those trees really expect that if something attacks us, we will simply roll over and let it happen?!" he burst out, fairly trembling with rage.

"Yami, please calm down!" Bakura gasped, placing an arm around the man's shoulders. "There has to be a way to get through that's fair to everyone!"

"I wonder if they would answer to the queen," Mr. Bakura said. Louder he said, "We've come with the blessing of the queen of your land!"

The trees shook, clearly unimpressed.

Mr. Bakura swallowed hard. "What was that she said to do if we started to lose our way?" he said.

"Something about an emerald stream," Yami Bakura growled.

"She said to listen for it," Bakura said. "But what good will that do when we can't even get inside?"

"Who knows," Yami Bakura said.

Mr. Bakura sighed, removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "Anything's worth a try, isn't it?" he said at last. "Let's be quiet and see if we can hear anything."

"All we've been hearing are angry trees and things screeching," Yami Bakura muttered. But he quieted anyway, straining to hear. Bakura and his father did likewise. Even the trees calmed down, willing to let them have this chance. Or maybe they were curious, wanting to see the humans fail.

". . . Maybe there is something," Bakura said at last. "Off in the distance, it sounds a bit like a rushing creek."

Yami Bakura snorted. "It's a waterfall," he grunted.

Mr. Bakura frowned. "I'm hearing what sounds like a dripping tap," he said.

Bakura rocked back. "We're each hearing something different," he said. "How can that be?"

"It's all an illusion of the mind," Yami Bakura said. "It would have to be."

Bakura started to stand. "Well, in any case, maybe if we follow the sounds, we'll find the stream," he said.

"In case you've forgotten, the trees won't let us pass," Yami Bakura said in sarcasm.

But Bakura walked up to the entrance in determination. And instead of repelling him, the trees formed their branches into an archway overhead. He stepped through in peace, then looked over his shoulder for the others. "Come on!" he called with a wave. "At least try! Something must be different."

Mr. Bakura nodded. "Ryou's right," he said. "I'm game. What about you, Thief?"

Yami Bakura growled as he got to his feet. "Don't think I'm about to give up," he said. "I have never given up before and I'm not going to start now!" With that he stormed to the entrance. But instead of being blown back, as he was fully expecting, the trees were still. When Mr. Bakura approached a moment later, he too was granted entry.

"This is so strange," Bakura said as they slowly walked ahead. "Did hearing the stream---or whatever it is---really make the difference?"

The trees trembled as they journeyed deeper, but made no move to stop them. Still, it was uneasily obvious that the ancient beings were attentive.

"It feels like a thousand pairs of eyes are watching us," Bakura said. "It's quite unsettling in and of itself, without knowing it's probably trees doing the watching. . . ."

"Stay close," Mr. Bakura instructed. "The last thing we want is to get separated."

". . . I wonder what kinds of ghosts live here," Bakura said. He looked back and forth at the trees. Were unfriendly spirits hiding behind them or in the bushes, staring at them? What if it was even them causing so much commotion instead of the trees?

Or what if it was both?

"There could be both good and bad," Yami Bakura grunted. "They might be mostly benign forest spirits. I'm not sensing anything evil at the moment . . . but that doesn't mean they're not here."

"I know," Bakura moaned.

"We still don't know where in the forest we have to go, either," Yami Bakura said. "And look up ahead---there's three paths to take."

Bakura's eyes widened. "You're right, Yami!" he breathed.

Mr. Bakura stared. "Each path looks mostly the same," he said. "There's no way of telling which one we should use."

As they drew to the heads of the trails, Bakura bit his lip. "Maybe they each lead to the same place eventually," he said. "Isn't that what Sapphire said about what happens if the wizard says you're worthy---he'll give you different directions compared to the other groups, but you all go to the same place?"

"So?" Yami Bakura said. "Are you suggesting we each take a path in the hopes that we'll meet again?"

"No . . ." Bakura said. "More like, it shouldn't matter which path we take together if they all go to the same location."

Mr. Bakura glowered at the roads. "What about the sounds of the stream?" he said. "Weren't we supposed to be following those?"

Bakura blinked. "That's true," he said. "So we should listen very carefully and see if there's one path where we can hear the stream more clearly!"

But even as the others agreed and tried to comply, the forest was not cooperating.

"I still hear a waterfall," Yami Bakura growled. "And it sounds closest to the left path."

"The dripping water is coming from the right-hand path," Mr. Bakura said.

"And I'm afraid the rushing creek is coming from the middle," Bakura said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Well, this is a fine mess," Yami Bakura growled.

Bakura shifted his weight. "I suppose a creek would sound the closest to a stream," he said slowly. "Maybe that's the sound we should be following. . . ."

"There could be a waterfall in the stream, if only a small one," Yami Bakura said.

"The stream could even be mostly quiet except for something dripping," Mr. Bakura added.

Bakura sank down on a log, suddenly overwhelmed. "What are we ever going to do?" he moaned.

Mr. Bakura sat down next to him. "There has to be some simple solution to this," he said. "Isn't that how riddles always are---the answer is right in front of you, only you can't see it?"

"Generally, yes," Yami Bakura said. "It's part of what makes them so maddening." He remained standing, looking at their surroundings with narrowed eyes.

"The trees here are mostly dark green in color, like emeralds," he mused. "Especially down the right-hand path."

Bakura looked up, his eyes widening. "Could that be it?" he said. "'Emerald stream'. . . . Could it possibly have a double meaning, and also be talking about those trees?" He stood, gazing down the path. "They are all in a row," he mused, "like a stream. . . ."

"That's good enough for me," Mr. Bakura said, getting off the log. "Let's go."

Yami Bakura grunted, but followed them as they started down the trail. The trees waved as they went, seeming pleased---or at least docile.

And then, suddenly, something flew right in his face.

"Well, that took you long enough to figure out!" a high-pitched female voice declared.

Yami Bakura flinched at the invasion to his personal space. Then he stepped back, his visage twisting in annoyance. "What business do you have spying on us?" he demanded.

It was as he had feared; the thing hovering in front of him was a fairy. Her long purple hair cascaded down her back, the flow only broken by the four shimmering wings beating too fast to be clearly seen. The lighter-colored dress that covered most of her small body looked to be made of some kind of lavender flower petals.

By now Bakura and his father had both paused, looking back in amazement and astonishment. Mr. Bakura looked to his son, confused.

"Do fairies usually present themselves to people like that?" he wondered.

Bakura shook his head. "I have no idea," he said.

The fairy, meanwhile, had placed her hands on her hips and was glaring at Yami Bakura. "Watch it, mister!" she scolded. "Not everyone has the privilege of being studied by one of the fae."

"I would have been perfectly content if the privilege had been indefinitely withheld," Yami Bakura snarled, moving to walk past her.

The fairy just blinked, suddenly looking confused herself. "Wait a minute!" she said. "You're not the one who solved the riddle."

Embarrassed, Bakura raised his hand. "That was me," he said.

"Oh." The magical being looked him up and down. "My mistake. You big people all look alike to me." She shrugged. "Anyway, down to business. You're looking for the Door, aren't you?"

Bakura blinked. "How did you know?" he asked.

She smirked, looking pleased with herself. "No one enters these woods unless they're trying to find the old wizard . . . or unless they're stupid enough to have gotten lost. And all of you are carrying bags of supplies. Plus, you've heard about the emerald stream. So naturally, I deduce that you've been sent by the queen, just starting on your quest. Not to mention, I've seen people with clothes like yours before."

Bakura rubbed the back of his neck. "That's all true," he said slowly. "And . . . well, the queen said we'll need a . . ."

"A forest fairy to guide you!" the purple-haired girl said with a knowing smile, flying out ahead. "And that would be me---Thistle! I'm the official guide for all the big people that come through here."

Mr. Bakura frowned, suspicious. "What do you want in payment?" he inquired.

She slowed her flitting and looked over her shoulder at him. "I'm a collector," she said. "I pick up all kinds of stuff from your culture and use it to make shiny things. So all I want from you is some trinkets of yours." Her eyes lit up as she caught sight of the Infinity Ring around Yami Bakura's neck. "And I'll be taking this!" She flew over, trying to grasp it in her tiny hands.

Yami Bakura cried out in surprise and frustration. "This is mine!" he retorted. "You can't have it!" He brushed the fairy away, clutching the Ring to his chest.

Thistle righted herself and flew at him again, her blue eyes narrowed in anger. "Then I won't help you!" she snapped. "I want your big shiny ring thing!"

"I couldn't give it to you even if I wanted," Yami Bakura countered, "and I never would want to!"

"Please!" Bakura rushed between them. "Isn't there some other way we could resolve this?" He looked pleadingly at Thistle. "He needs that Ring; it's his lifeforce. Without it, he's only a spirit."

She stared at him. "I knew I sensed another aura around him," she said. "A really old one." She frowned, studying the annoyed thief again. "Coming to think of it, I haven't seen clothes like his in a long time."

She shrugged now. "I guess I could spare the Ring, but it'll cost you even more," she said.

Bakura slid his pack off of his shoulders. "What kinds of things do you like?" he asked, digging through the bag.

She flew over and perched on the edge of it. "I like these!" she said, lifting out a lightweight flashlight and clicking it on.

Bakura gawked. "But it'll be so dark in here at night," he protested. "We'll need to be able to see!"

"If you do everything right, you should be out of here before nightfall!" Thistle replied. "And you can get more of these in the villages." She clicked it on and off several more times.

Mr. Bakura crossed his arms, not pleased. "Is there anything else you like?" he asked.

Yami Bakura stepped forward. "This is ridiculous," he said. "We can't give up our supplies. Let's just find another fairy. Or better yet, just keep going on our own."

Thistle dropped the flashlight into the bag and flew up, giving him a smug look. "The others might want a bigger price, if they'll help you at all," she said. "Everyone knows I drive the best bargains for big people. I'm willing to let go of that Ring, for instance. Some of the others might not be!"

Her smirk widened. "And you'll never make it on your own," she went on. "Everyone also knows you need a fairy to get into the wizard's property! There's a barrier around it that can only be broken by the white magic of certain beings. In the forest, fairies are the only ones who qualify!"

Bakura rocked back. "Oh dear. . . ." He stared into the bag, then back at the confident fairy. "Do you need every one of our flashlights?" he asked.

She sighed. "Well, I guess in a pinch I could leave you with one," she said. "But then I'd want something in place of it!"

". . . I have a watch," Mr. Bakura suggested. He pulled back the sleeve of his shirt, revealing an expensive timepiece.

Thistle flew over, lifting his wrist and examining it from every angle. "I'll take it!" she declared, peering at her faint reflection in the glass.

Mr. Bakura sighed in relief. "Do you want it now?" he asked.

"I'll take all payment after I've helped you," Thistle said. "It's just possible your price might get even bigger before we're done!"

"'Even bigger'?!" Yami Bakura cried. "Are you trying to rob us blind?!"

Bakura laid a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just go with it for now, Yami," he said quietly. "It sounds like we do need her help. We don't want to make her upset."

Yami Bakura smoldered. "I hate fairies," he muttered.


	5. A Misty Spell

**Chapter Five**

**A Misty Spell**

**Prompt: #25 - **_**Wacked-Out Potions**_

As the party, now with one more member, went deeper into the forest, the trees grew all the more dense. High above their heads, the branches knit together so tightly that the light was almost entirely blocked. And low to the ground, a strange mist had started to form, swirling around the humans' ankles and sometimes almost to their waists. Thistle flew above it all, seeming unconcerned.

Bakura reached into his bag. "We really need our flashlights here, even though it isn't night at all!" he exclaimed. He clicked it on, beaming it down the path. The fog only looked more thick than ever up ahead.

Yami Bakura growled. "What is this?" he demanded. "Why is there so much mist?"

Thistle shrugged. "It's always like that here," she said. "The forest has a lot of unexplained things. You just have to get used to it."

Bakura stiffened. "Unexplained like this?!" he cried. "I think something's got me!"

Everyone turned to stare as the boy tried to pull his right leg free from something in the mist. But no matter how hard he tugged, whatever-it-was would not let go. And now his balance was giving out.

"Help!" he gasped, flailing in desperation.

Both his father and Yami Bakura moved to grab him, each managing to catch hold of an arm. Bakura clutched at them, his eyes wide in panic.

"It's trying to drag me down somewhere!" he burst out.

"_Now_ I'm sensing an evil presence," Yami Bakura snarled.

Thistle flew over to where the mist was concealing Bakura's assailant. "It's one of the Bonemen!" she announced. She sounded more excited than worried.

"Bonemen?!" the horrified trio exclaimed in unison.

"Like . . . a skeleton?" Bakura quavered.

"Exactly like one!" Thistle said. "Because that's what it is!" She flew a circle around the spot. "Don't worry, I'll cast the Dust to Dust spell that will make it go inanimate again!"

But Yami Bakura was already preparing for an attack with the Infinity Ring. "Ring, part the clouds concealing this demon," he ordered. "Send it back to its grave!"

Bakura gripped tighter at him and at Mr. Bakura. "Someone hurry!" he pleaded. "It feels like it's trying to take my leg right off instead of just pulling all of me to it!" He slipped with a cry, bringing both of them with him to the ground.

The Infinity Ring was activating just at that moment, colliding with the spell Thistle had just cast. Both sets of magic lit up the sight of a bony hand protruding from the ground . . . before it disintegrated into nothing. An unearthly wail of pain rent the air before being abruptly silenced.

Bakura, who had shut his eyes tightly, now cautiously opened one. "What . . . what _was_ that?!" he gasped.

"That's what I would like to know!" Yami Bakura burst out. But he was referring to something very different. "I was already casting a spell!" He glared at Thistle. "What were you thinking?! Continuing to cast yours could have injured Bakura!"

"Well, you shouldn't have cast yours!" Thistle retorted, flying into his face. "I said it first!"

Bakura stared at them. "Please, don't fight," he protested. "I'm fine. . . ." He looked down at his foot and shuddered. The cuff of his pant leg was torn, clearly by the skeletal fingertips.

Mr. Bakura was fixed on the sight. "Did it break the skin?" he demanded, pulling the cloth up to look. Several small cuts greeted him, exactly lining up with the holes in the pant leg. Two were drawing blood.

Bakura gulped. "Oh my. . . ."

"You could get infected!" Deeply concerned, Mr. Bakura slid off his pack and searched through it for the first aid kit. "There's no telling where those bones have been."

"Was the skeleton supposed to dissolve?!" Yami Bakura yelled in the background. "You said it would just render it inanimate!"

"It's never done that before!" Thistle retorted. "It's probably your fault!"

"It's _your_ fault for casting a spell so it collided with mine!" Yami Bakura roared. "What if it had misdirected?!"

"STOP!" Bakura clapped his hands over his ears.

Stunned, Yami Bakura and Thistle both turned to look at him. Only when he was sure they were quiet did he take his hands away.

"I'm alright," he said with a weak smile, then winced as Mr. Bakura dabbed an antiseptic wipe over the cuts. "Please don't argue; it won't do us any good."

"Hmph." Thistle crossed her arms. "Well, it was his fault, anyway."

"Don't think I didn't hear the excitement in your tone," Yami Bakura said. "You weren't as concerned about Bakura as you were about showing off. I'm willing to stop the argument, as long as you agree not to try to 'help' Bakura anymore. We won't be impressed with your fairy dust."

"Well, _I'm_ not impressed with your Ring, bigshot!" Thistle said, sticking out her tongue at him.

Yami Bakura's visage twisted in stunned disgust at the display. Then he turned away, looking to Bakura. "How bad are you hurt?" he frowned, seeing the boy's father bandaging his leg just above the ankle.

"It's really nothing," Bakura said, weakly smiling again. "Just a few minor cuts. . . ."

"Skeletons aren't supposed to be animated," Mr. Bakura objected, tense and angry. "How did it happen?"

Thistle looked to him, her tiny wings beating rapidly. "Only a high-level spellcaster can do it," she said. "Or plantlife."

"Plantlife?!" Bakura exclaimed, completely alarmed now. "But I thought the trees let us come in! We listened for the emerald stream at the entrance, and when we heard things in the distance, they stopped attacking and let us pass!" He winced slightly as Mr. Bakura finished affixing the bandage and taped it closed, but then smiled in gratitude. "Thank you, Father," he said.

Mr. Bakura nodded, replacing everything in the first aid kit as he looked to Thistle. The fairy seemed surprised.

"You heard things?" she said. "Like what?"

"It was all different," Bakura said. "A creek, a waterfall, something dripping. . . ."

"That doesn't happen much," Thistle frowned. "Usually everyone only hears one sound when they listen." She looked around. "Who heard what?" she demanded.

"I heard the creek," Bakura volunteered.

"I heard the dripping," Mr. Bakura said.

Yami Bakura was still fuming, tightly gripping his arms. But he saw no need to respond; it would be obvious what he had heard now. He glared at the fairy, wondering what she was getting at. Was it a bad thing, for them to have each heard a different sound? He could not tell if she was concerned or just confused.

Thistle shrugged. "Well, I don't know what the significance is, but I've heard that the wizard is really worried when it happens," she said.

"So it's a bad omen?" Yami Bakura growled. "Perhaps if we hear something different, we're not supposed to stay together at the three paths. And yet we can't separate, not in a place like this."

"The trees seemed pleased when we chose the right-hand path," Bakura said.

"And you acted like it was correct!" Yami Bakura could not help but snap, glaring at Thistle.

"Well, if the trees acted like it, then it should be!" Thistle retorted. "Everyone always hears something different at the three roads, but to hear it all the way back at the entrance isn't usual at all!"

Mr. Bakura stood and then moved to help Bakura. "How much farther is this wizard?" he wanted to know.

Bakura, grateful for the assistance, got up shakily, gripping his father's arms. Yami Bakura watched him carefully, still concerned about the possible effects from the attack. Bakura swayed a bit as he put pressure on his injured leg, then leaned on his other side and seemed to be doing alright.

Thistle was hovering in the air, still thinking. "It's still a ways down the path," she said. "Probably another hour or two, maybe more."

"And what are these 'Bonemen'?" Mr. Bakura demanded, deeply disturbed. "Are they all over the forest?"

"They can show up anywhere you'll find human skeletons," Thistle said.

Bakura froze. "So they're rising out of their own graves?!" he gasped.

"Pretty much, yeah," Thistle said.

"Who would be buried in this God-forsaken place?" Yami Bakura snarled.

The trees started to shake, angry again. Thistle clenched her fists in frustration.

"Don't _say_ things like that!" she yelled. "You don't want to make the trees upset!"

"Blast! I've never had to worry about offending kindling before!" Yami Bakura retorted.

The trees shook harder. Thistle flew higher, losing the rest of her short temper.

"Ohhh, shut up, shut up, _shut up!_" she wailed.

"You shut up!" Yami Bakura shot back.

Mr. Bakura just stared. "This world gets stranger every moment," he said.

"They do get along quite famously, don't they," Bakura said, blinking in shock.

"This is wasting time," Mr. Bakura said in exasperation. Louder he said, "Both of you be quiet!"

Yami Bakura and Thistle froze and looked to him. The British man sighed in annoyance.

"Thief, you and I had to make a truce," he said. "We need to get going and find that wizard. Shouldn't you make a truce with this fairy?"

Yami Bakura glowered at him. "I'm willing," he said through clenched teeth.

". . . I am too," Thistle muttered. "I still have your stuff to collect." She flew back towards the path. "Let's keep going," she said. "There's probably more Bonemen around here."

Bakura looked at her in horror. "And it's really the trees releasing them?!" he gasped, as they started to walk after her.

"What if it's that Fafnir character?" Mr. Bakura said. "We were told to watch out for him."

Thistle paused. "You don't believe Fafnir is one of Juno's great heroes?" she said.

"We've never met the man," Yami Bakura growled. "Who knows."

"Most Junovians think he's the greatest thing since sliced bread," Thistle said. "There's just a small band of rebels that thinks he's a bad guy. Of course, the fairies have always thought he was weird, so . . ."

"What's he done to make you suspicious?" Mr. Bakura asked.

"It's just something about his whole smooth attitude and that insincere smile of his," Thistle said.

"I suppose your kind would feel the same about me," Yami Bakura said.

She looked back, giving him a hard glare. ". . . No," she said at last. "They wouldn't like you, but they also wouldn't find you a threat to Juno."

"Well, thank goodness for small favors," Yami Bakura said sarcastically.

Thistle ignored him as she resumed leading him and the others. "I guess it could be Fafnir," she said. "He would probably blame it on the queen not ruling good enough. The pendant she's got is supposed to blast all enemies to kingdom come."

Bakura blinked in surprise. "Pendant?" he repeated. "The one she used to send the crows away?"

"It's got enough power that she could destroy this world with it, if she wanted," Thistle said matter-of-factly. "If Fafnir's a bad guy, like we fae think, then he probably wants to get it from her."

Mr. Bakura gawked. "That blue gem could destroy a world?!" he exclaimed.

"Yep!" Thistle said. "It's one of three pendants that are important to Juno. The one that sent you guys here is the second. And no one knows where the third is."

"Oh my." Bakura looked to Yami Bakura and his father in concern. "We seem to have plunged into a deeper problem than we even thought."

"And we should plunge out again as soon as we can," Yami Bakura growled. "This world's problems are not ours. There's no sense in us getting mixed up in them."

"Unfortunately, if that madman is here, then we're already mixed up in them," Mr. Bakura said. "We can't leave him roaming free."

"I do intend to get even with him for what he's done to us," Yami Bakura said.

"Yeah, that sounds like something you'd do," Thistle said.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Yami Bakura snapped.

"Oh nothing," Thistle said. "Except that you probably think revenge is the answer to everything."

Yami Bakura growled.

"Okay, I'll be quiet," Thistle smirked.

****

The mist continued to swirl around them as they went deeper into the forest. Bonemen's hands pushed their way out of the ground at varying intervals, reaching to grab hold of one of the poor mortals. If they were closest to Yami Bakura, he would destroy them. If they were nearest to Thistle, she would defeat them. It was working well enough that there were no quarrels between the thief and the fairy, for which Bakura and his father were very grateful. But they were still highly disturbed by the animated skeletons.

"Is that a house in the distance?" Bakura said at length, squinting through the fog.

"Yep!" Thistle said. "We're almost there now." She flew further ahead. "The mist's not as thick up here!" she called.

The others hurried to where she was hovering. "You're right," Mr. Bakura observed. "It even felt like we passed through some sort of tangible shield."

"We did!" Thistle said. "We've crossed over the first layer of the wizard's barrier." She frowned. "But it used to be that there wasn't any fog at all past this point."

"And the fact that now there is, is a bad thing, isn't it?" Yami Bakura observed in irritation. As if anything other than bad things were going to happen to them on this trip.

"Of course it is!" Thistle snapped. "It means something besides me penetrated the barrier!"

"But you said only fairies could pass through," Yami Bakura growled. "Perhaps one of your little friends has gone rogue."

Thistle shook her head. "Then they wouldn't have white magic anymore!" she objected. "And only white magic can get through the shield."

"Then how would the fog follow them in, if it is a product of shadows?" Yami Bakura said. "Face it, if something is amiss here, it's breaking the barrier down enough that probably anything can get through now. We very likely wouldn't have even needed you as a guide!"

"If something's wrong at the wizard's place, then the fae should have known about it!" Thistle retorted. "So there!"

"Well, perhaps your powers are waning too!" Yami Bakura said.

"That's not possible!" Thistle cried. "Not unless . . ." Her eyes widened. "It can't be!" Without waiting for the others, she tore ahead, her wings beating in desperation.

"Wait!" Yami Bakura yelled. He cursed. "We can't lose that little spoiled brat," he said, and dashed into the fog after her.

Alarmed, Bakura reached out a hand. "Yami!" he called. He snatched only thin air.

Mr. Bakura shook his head. "We can't lose either of them," he said grimly. "Are you up to running?"

Bakura nodded. "We don't have any choice, I'm afraid," he said. He smiled. "I'll be alright."

Mr. Bakura's eyes narrowed, but he nodded as well. Yami Bakura was still visible in the distance, his red robe flying out behind him. And now they had to close the gap.

With that, father and son took off running to catch the other two. The fog persisted in following them, almost reaching out, as it were, with misty fingers to grab at their backs and hair. Bakura shuddered at the touch of the cold on his face, but did not turn to look. Instead he kept his Yami in sight up ahead.

"He's good," Mr. Bakura muttered.

"He's always tried to stay in shape," Bakura gasped. "Something I need to do better. . . ." His father, he knew, could run much faster than he was doing, but he had slowed enough for Bakura to keep up. He did not want the boy to fall behind in the thickening fog.

And the more it thickened, the more it became impossible not to notice it. Bakura looked around wildly, his eyes wide with alarm. "There's so much!" he cried. "Father, can you still see Yami?!"

Mr. Bakura stared ahead. "I think I can still hear him running," he said. "I can't see him." He grabbed Bakura's wrist. "I don't want to lose track of you, Ryou."

Bakura swallowed hard. "What are we going to do?!" he exclaimed. "Now we can scarcely see at all! And yet, how can we stay behind here?!"

The museum director debated within himself. "We'll keep going," he said. "We'll just have to move more cautiously. For all we know, more of those Bonemen are waiting for us. If the fog can now come in here when previously it couldn't, who's to say that those wretched things couldn't, as well?"

Bakura shuddered. "Oh my," he moaned. Then his eyes widened. "What if they go after Yami?!"

"He can take care of himself," Mr. Bakura said. "We're the ones who don't have any magic!"

"I know, but they could still get the better of him, if there were a whole lot!" Bakura said. "Father, we have to find him!" He looked at the man in worry and alarm.

Mr. Bakura looked back, scarcely able to see the pleading brown eyes amidst the low-hanging clouds. But the panic in the boy's voice was very clear. "Of course we'll find him, Ryou," he said. "Come on, let's keep going."

He was still amazed by his son's devotion to that scoundrel. And of course, they should not leave him even if he could take care of himself. With so many dangers afoot, that would not be right. But despite the fact that the thief had saved Ryou's life once before, Mr. Bakura had to wonder if the Egyptian would still do the same now. Or was he suspicious only because of what he had learned about the past? It had certainly darkened his view of the bad-mannered character, and his view had never been very bright to begin with.

He was not coming back himself, was he? He was too caught up in thoughts of chasing down that fairy and finding the wizard. He probably thought the others were right behind him, or that they would come shortly, and he would not bother looking to make sure.

But Mr. Bakura stiffened at the sound of footsteps running in their direction. "Bakura!" a gruff voice called.

Bakura perked up in relief. "Yami!" he exclaimed. "You're alright! We were trying to find you!" He stared through the fog, then blinked and squinted as the Infinity Ring cut a path of light through the mist.

"Foolish boy," Yami Bakura grumbled as he approached, but the relief in his tone was obvious. "Your father's with you, isn't he?"

"Y-Yes, I'm here." Mr. Bakura shook his head. He had been wrong again.

"Well, come on then," Yami Bakura said, turning back. "We need to keep going."

"What happened to Thistle?" Bakura asked.

"She found the wizard's house," Yami Bakura said. "She's looking for him now."

Bakura and his father came alongside the thief. "Does it look deserted?" Mr. Bakura wanted to know.

"Well, it doesn't look particularly inhabited," Yami Bakura grunted.

But as the three of them set out down the fog-covered path, a tall silhouette was suddenly standing in the road. The travelers tensed. What now?! Was this the being who had let the fog slip inside the barrier? Was he their newest enemy? And if so, could they hope to defeat him?

"Who are you?" Yami Bakura demanded.

"Visitors from another world, you have passed the initial test," the silhouette intoned. "Come, I will take you back to my home, where we may speak." The figure stepped into the light cast by the Infinity Ring, revealing the serious and white-bearded face of an old and wise man. "I am the wizard Azhi Dahaka."


	6. In the Forest They Dwell

**Chapter Six**

**In the Forest They Dwell**

**Prompt: #27 - **_**Treasure Hunt**_

The wizard's house, a cabin nearly concealed in a grove of evergreen trees, was rustic and warm. The group was gathered around a fire in the main room---minus Thistle, who had been asked to wait in another room while the people she had brought were spoken to. Mugs containing some sort of hot liquid had been placed on a wooden end table in front of a dark green couch, but had not yet been touched by the guests. Both Yami Bakura and James Bakura were frowning in suspicion.

"You said we had passed the initial test," Yami Bakura said, crossing his arms as he looked to the sorcerer. "What did you mean?" His eyes flashed. "Were you responsible for the animated skeleton that attacked Bakura?"

Azhi Dahaka frowned and leaned back. "No," he said. "All that I did was create a mist after you passed onto my property. I know, however, about the Bonemen in the forest."

"Is it true that plants can summon them?!" Bakura gasped.

"Yes," Azhi said. "But I don't know if plants summoned the one that attacked you, young Ryou."

Bakura blinked. "You know my name?!" he said.

"I was observing all of you talking in my mirror," Ahzi told him.

"And yet you don't know about the skeleton," Yami Bakura said ironically.

The wizard's eyes darkened. The entire house seemed to dim in its brightness, trembling from its owner's anger. "In spite of what you may think you know about sorcerers, we are not all-seeing beings," he said. "We cannot see every end!"

He exhaled deeply, calm again. "Now," he said, as the light returned, "you are all welcome to partake of my herbal tea blend while we speak."

Bakura was the first to take one of the mugs, a bit uneasy from the outburst. "T-Thank you," he stammered. He brought the cup to his lips, taking a sip. "This is very good!" he proclaimed with a genuine smile.

"It should be," Azhi said, but he was clearly pleased by the compliment.

". . . What was the purpose of this test?" Mr. Bakura spoke now, quickly taking another of the mugs. "I'm afraid I don't see much point in using fog as a test."

"But it was, and effective, too." Azhi studied each of them with a serious and thoughtful look. "It was a test of your worthiness to go on this quest to find the Door." He nodded. "And since each of you were willing to risk your own safety for that of the others', all of you passed."

"I see," Mr. Bakura blinked. "I wasn't expecting that such a thing would be necessary in proving our eligibility. I could understand if we were on a mission to save this world, but . . ."

"In essence, that is exactly what you must do," Azhi interrupted, his tone grave. "You have to locate the madman who has stolen the forbidden magic and possesses one of the three ancient Talismans that controls this world. If he is in this world, you will meet him before you find the Door. If he is in your world, you won't begin to be able to locate him until you are home."

Yami Bakura growled as he finally took the other mug. It was likely true; after all, if Yami Marik was here, he would not pass up the opportunity to see them again and taunt them some more. The temptation would be too great.

"I know that there are problems among you," the wizard went on, looking from James to Yami Bakura. "You are both trying to cast them aside, at least for now. That is good. And who knows." A bit of a smile crept over his features. "Perhaps by the time you reach the end of your quest, you'll find those things don't matter much at all."

Mr. Bakura shook his head. "I could never feel that way," he said. "It matters a great deal."

Bakura sank into the back of the couch, still holding his herbal tea. "But Father," he said, "people can change. You've changed a lot just in the last few months, and . . ." He stared into the dark liquid. "I confess, I didn't think you ever would. I didn't think Yami would, either . . . but he has, as well as you."

Mr. Bakura looked stunned, then uncomfortable, then guilty. ". . . This isn't the place to talk about such things," he said.

Yami Bakura smirked at him from where he was sitting on Bakura's other side. Bakura had made a point, and though his father did not want to air their dirty laundry where anyone would overhear, it had clearly registered.

"Yami, hmm?" Azhi remarked. "An interesting moniker."

"It's less of a name and more of a title," Yami Bakura grunted. Bakura had come to use it as a name, but as far as Yami Bakura was concerned, it was not the wizard's business.

Instead of replying, the sorcerer studied him for a long moment. "You have an ancient aura about you," he said, "and a soul that has both seen and caused much pain and heartache."

Yami Bakura growled. "I don't need you to tell me about myself," he said.

"You don't believe you're worthy or deserving of the responsibilities you bear or the love that you have," Azhi continued. "And yet you carry on."

"What would you have me do?" Yami Bakura snapped. "Give up?"

"Then you wouldn't be worthy of anything," Azhi said. "You have a noble soul, one that never had the chance to truly shine. And it is because of that, that you were entrusted with the power you have."

Yami Bakura frowned. "Bah!" he muttered. "Ridiculous."

Azhi's eyes narrowed. "I don't know what caused you to feel such a grievous lack of self-worth, but you need to fully recognize that your existence has merit. You will never be able to progress otherwise."

Now the old thief sneered. "I recognize it has merit," he said. "To myself. Just to exist alone has plenty of merit. Even if the entire world hated and despised me, I would want to keep existing if only to defy them."

Azhi ignored that. "Recognize why the boy loves you and you will begin to understand both yourself and him much better." He pointed at Yami Bakura in emphasis, then looked to the stunned James Bakura.

"I perceive that you have had trouble in the past keeping your priorities straight," he said, "but you are trying to do better. Don't ever again allow your pain or anything else to cause you to lose track of what's most important." He paused. "Also," he added, "never forget the potential any and all humans have to change."

"You mean him," James said, looking at Yami Bakura.

"Yes," replied the wizard, "but not only him."

He turned to Bakura, who had been sitting in surprised silence. "You have hidden many feelings in your heart," he stated, his tone grave. "Some are harmless, while others must be watched. But you must not try to tell yourself they don't exist. You must accept them before you can overcome them."

Bakura stared, his mouth moving but his voice not cooperating. "I . . . I see," he stammered at last.

"See here," Yami Bakura growled, "what business is it of yours? No one's perfect; everyone has the potential to have a demon inside. You don't need to go making him uncomfortable with your wizardry."

"I tell what needs to be heard," Azhi said. He looked to each of them in turn. "I have seen a dark cloud looming over your party's future. And while I don't know what it contains, I have determined what advice will best serve each of you as you struggle to carry on with your mission." He clasped his own mug in his hands. "And of course, as a whole, you must never lose your sense of unity and purpose. If your group falls to ruin, there is a good chance only some of you---or none at all---will ever return to your world."

"Well, that's certainly a ray of light," Yami Bakura said. "Your sense of impending doom reminds me of my own."

Mr. Bakura was staring now. "'Only some'?" he repeated. That really sounded worse than none of them going home. What if Ryou was forced to stay behind or to go back all alone?

Bakura had gone sheet-white. "I never even thought of this," he said. "I thought it would be all or no one."

Mr. Bakura drew an arm around his son's shoulders. "When we find the Door, don't we have a choice whether we go through or not?" he frowned.

Azhi Dahaka sighed. "There is always a choice," he said, "even if you can't defeat your enemy here and must go to your world to find him. Everything hinges on if you feel you will have anyone or anything waiting for you in either your world or this one. Many different situations could result in such choices."

Bakura's voice was soft when he spoke, almost a whisper. "I wouldn't know what to choose, if it were me," he said. "If Yami Marik was defeated here, I mean. If he was in our world, of course I would have to go back. But if that wasn't a concern and if . . . if I was the last one left, then I . . ." His voice caught in his throat. "I would have family buried in two worlds."

Mr. Bakura pulled him close. "No one's going to be buried here," he said firmly. "None of us will die . . . or be separated by any other means. We're going to stay together and see this through to the end."

"And then we're going home," Yami Bakura added in gruff agreement.

"I pray all of you will," Azhi said. "It's going to be a very rough journey, but there is always hope for your success."

"You haven't even told us what we're supposed to do," Yami Bakura said. "We heard that you give different instructions to each group that comes here."

"That is correct, for each group's qualities and weaknesses lead them on separate paths best suited to them and only them." Azhi drank some of the tea, which amazingly still had wisps of steam floating off the top. "Another part of the reason I discern your individual strengths and shortcomings is to choose what is your path."

"I see." Mr. Bakura frowned again. "Does our success depend on if we can master what you've told us?"

"Not altogether," Azhi said. "But it would certainly make it better for you in the end, and in general."

Yami Bakura grunted. "So, what is our path?" he asked.

"The mirror will say." Azhi set his mug down and stood, crossing to the oval-shaped mirror on the opposite side of the room. "Sometimes it only tells the first step, however. Then it is up to you to choose all that comes after."

Yami Bakura leaped to his feet, incredulous. "And just how are we supposed to know that?!" he demanded.

The wizard merely gave a vague nod. "You will know," he said. "When the time is right." He stared into the glass. "Right now, the only thing I'm seeing is that you leave the forest and pass by several villages before stopping at the fifth."

"I don't see anything," Yami Bakura objected. "Just reflections."

"These are reflections, also, from a certain viewpoint---reflections of a path, a way." Azhi turned to look at him. "Only those able to see can discover the mirror's truths."

"I can 'see' just fine," Yami Bakura said.

"To view the mirror's messages, you must do more than look with your physical eyes," Azhi said. "You must focus. You must want to see into the glass with all your heart and soul. A half-hearted or simply curious or bored attempt will never work."

Now he moved his gaze to Bakura and his father. "The three of you need to be off now," he said. "You have a long journey ahead."

Mr. Bakura was surprised. "Weren't we supposed to undergo further testing?" he asked.

"I have done all I need to," Azhi said. "The rest of your testing will come on your travels."

Bakura swallowed hard, not anticipating the trip. "Is there anything else we should know?" he queried as the pit in his stomach grew.

Azhi Dahaka paused, mulling over the answer. "Don't trust any strange creatures," he said at last. "You never know who may be one of Fafnir's spies. You've already been told that he is an ill being. And it is true! He will be your enemy if he learns of your mission."

"Oh my," Bakura gulped.

"He won't try to simply turn us to his side?" Mr. Bakura wondered. "He could easily tell a falsehood such as that he has the box that was stolen from us, the one that will help us get home. And that if we help him, he would let us use it."

Azhi regarded Mr. Bakura calmly. "And that wouldn't be the act of an enemy?" he said. "Yes, Fafnir is very smooth and crafty, shiftless and shameless. He might very well try to sway you first, unless he realized you could not be bought."

"What if he really would have the box?" Bakura worried. "We don't know what happened to Ya . . . er, the one who sent us here."

Yami Bakura's eyes narrowed. "That's true," he snarled. "If he learned of Fafnir's plans, he might even decide to lend a hand just for the purpose of seeing destruction brought upon the world---and especially on us."

Azhi frowned deep in his long beard. "Fafnir must not get hold of the forbidden magic," he said. "While you start on your journey, I'm going to look into this matter further. I will try to determine if he already has it in his possession."

"And what then?" Mr. Bakura said.

"Then . . ." Azhi shook his head. "It depends wholly on what I discover."

"And speaking of not trusting strange creatures . . ." Yami Bakura sneered, switching back to the original topic. "I don't suppose you would count that fairy as a strange creature," he said.

The wizard gave a weary sigh. "Thistle is a conniving blackmailer, but definitely not a spy," he said. "However, you should still be cautious about trusting any fairies. Their race is filled with trickery."

"That brings me to another point." Yami Bakura crossed his arms. "How trustworthy is the queen?"

Azhi frowned. "Sapphire has been a worthy monarch," he said. "Some think she's a fool, but she knows more than she lets on. And that is all to be said on that matter. Sapphire is not your concern; finding the Door is."

Yami Bakura was not satisfied. As far as he was concerned, since the wizard had admitted he could not see all ends, it was possible that he would not be able to see Sapphire's treachery, if it existed. But he said nothing, instead only glaring at Azhi as he got up.

"Feel free to think whatever you wish," the sorcerer said in a mild tone, keenly aware of Yami Bakura's continuing suspicions. "But you asked me to tell you something about the queen and tell you I did."

"Not enough to satisfy me," Yami Bakura growled.

Bakura stood as well. "Never mind, Yami," he said, setting down the now-empty mug of tea. "Let's be off." He sighed. "We still have to make it out of the forest, and now we'll be going on with only one flashlight."

"Thistle might be persuaded to wait to collect her debts until you've reached the edge of the forest," Azhi said. "It depends on how quick you want to be rid of her."

Mr. Bakura shook his head. "As much as she troubles us, and especially my son's . . . _friend,_ I'm sure all of us would be willing to put up with her a bit longer if it meant we could keep all of our light sources." He glanced at Yami Bakura, who grunted in what was probably agreement.

Azhi nodded. "Then suppose we ask her and find out?" Without warning he went to the door leading to the other room and threw it open. A shocked Thistle, clinging to the wood as it wildly swung, cried out.

"Hey!" she wailed.

Azhi gave her an amused look. "Surely by now you know I'm aware that you eavesdrop on my visitors," he said.

She pouted, flying away from the door with tiny fists clenched. "Well, I don't like being kept out of things!" she said. "As long as they've got stuff I've laid claim to, I'm interested in what happens to them!"

"Well . . ." Azhi just kept looking at her, completely unruffled. "What do you say, Thistle? Will you allow them to keep their flashlights until they get out of the woods?"

The fairy frowned. "It'd take up more of my time following them," she objected. "I'd have to make them give me even more in payment."

"What?!" Yami Bakura fumed. "Then let's forget it. We'll have one flashlight and the Infinity Ring. That's good enough."

"Wait just a moment," Azhi said, holding up a hand to him. To Thistle he said, "What about as a favor to me? Would you do it without further payment then?"

Thistle blinked. "A favor to you?" she said in surprise. "Why do you specially care about these guys? I mean, you've never asked me for something like this before! And how many people have I brought to you over the years? You just tell them stuff and send them on their way."

Now the other party members were staring too. But though Azhi was aware of it, he only smiled in a secretive way. "Oh . . . it's nothing," he said. "Just a little whim of mine. You should know better than to question the mind of a wizard, Thistle."

The fairy frowned, her wings furiously beating as she hung in the air. "I guess," she said. She tossed her head. "Well . . . if you want it that bad, maybe I could."

Azhi chuckled. "You won't end up charging _me,_ will you?"

"Probably not," Thistle said. "But a favor is meant to be returned."

"And it shall be, at some point in time." Azhi looked to the others. "It seems you will still have your guide for a while longer."

Yami Bakura grunted. "All that matters is having enough light to successfully steer out of this cursed place," he said.

Azhi held up a warning finger. "Don't insult the trees or their home," he said. "They will not let you pass."

Bakura swallowed. "Does it get much more dangerous before we find the exit?" he wanted to know.

"You must still pass through the darkest realm," Azhi said. "At its worst point, you can barely see your hands in front of you."

"And I thought it couldn't get any darker," Mr. Bakura groaned.

"If you aren't careful, you could fall into any number of grim things," the wizard continued. "Holes in the ground that close over, vines that won't let you go. . . . And of course, the Pool of the Dead."

"Pool of the Dead?!" Bakura cried in horror. "Are there more Bonemen there?!"

But Azhi shook his head. "No," he said. "Something far worse, I'm afraid."

Yami Bakura's eyes flashed. "You knew of this, didn't you?!" he snarled, looking to Thistle. "You knew, but you were going to take all of our flashlights---until Bakura's father convinced you to let us keep _one!_"

She glared at him, unimpressed. "So? A girl's gotta be conniving and crafty to get by in this world!" she said.

"You're a forest fairy! You don't _need_ those things to survive!" Yami Bakura shot back.

Azhi held up his hands to silence them. "Nevermind what was," he said. "Your concern now is what is and what will come."

Yami Bakura growled. Thistle glowered.

"Well, at least you can be sure I won't lead you wrong," she said. "Not while you have my stuff!"

"Right now, it's still _our_ 'stuff,'" Yami Bakura retorted.

Mr. Bakura heaved a big sigh. "Come on, you two," he said. "Let's get going." But then he paused. "Do you have a map of this forest?" he asked Azhi. "Or of Juno as a whole?"

Azhi Dahaka reached for some scrolls on a desk to the side of the mirror. "I can give you this," he said, lifting one out from among the others. "It's a map of Juno. There are no maps of the forest. No one has ever dared remain long enough to create one."

Mr. Bakura took the parchment with a nod. "Thank you," he said. He placed it in his pack for later review.

Thistle headed for the door. "Well, let's get this over with," she grumbled.

The others filed after her, Bakura shooting a glance over his shoulder at the wizard. The feeling of foreboding he had held was only increasing. He wanted to beg the spellcaster to teleport them to the edge of the forest, if it was possible. But from the stern expression, Azhi Dahaka knew what Bakura wanted---and the answer was No. Even if he could do it, he would not.

Bakura looked away, back to the others, praying they would all make it out alive.


	7. The Colour of Night

**Chapter Seven**

**The Colour of Night**

**Prompt: #3 - **_**Into the Abyss**_

Yami Bakura was troubled as the party filed into the depths of the forest just beyond Azhi Dahaka's home. The wizard had been correct---all remaining natural light was fading. There was no choice but to use every one of their flashlights, and when those did not provide enough of a glow, he added his Infinity Ring's power. Since it doubled as a compass, it would hopefully come in handy if they needed to be certain they were going the right way. Perhaps he was just stubborn, but he wanted another method of determining such without relying on Thistle.

Even so, the growing darkness---and the increasing groans and grunts of the annoyed trees---were not at the center of the thief's concerns. It was some of the wizard's words that were bothering him now.

The dark cloud that had been seen over their fate . . . what did it mean? There was always the chance that the wizard could be seeing things that would not even come to pass, but they could not afford to scoff. They had to consider it could be the truth. And they had to steel themselves against any possible obstacles.

What about his odd words to each of them individually, too? Particularly what he had said to Bakura? The boy was no villain. Of course the seeds of anger and hatred were there; Yami Bakura had seen how Bakura had begun to hate Yami Marik. But no one could help but hate that wretch, after what he had been doing.

And no one could help but hate Yami Bakura, too. Yet Bakura had come to love him.

It was true; Yami Bakura never had really understood why or how it had come about. They had been having such trouble getting along when the White Death serial killer had pursued them, but at the same time, they had been growing close. By the time Yami Bakura had engaged the devil in battle, he had come to acknowledge that he cared for Bakura. And the boy, too, deep down had known that his own feelings were just as strong. When he had held Yami Bakura's dying body in his arms, the Eon Spear plunged all the way through the thief's abdomen, it had nearly broken him. Yet it had been through Bakura's determination to not let his newly-realized friend perish that they had both lived.

Yami Bakura stopped in his tracks, suddenly sheet-white. _The recurring dream. . . . Azhi's warnings. . . . His own concerns. . . ._

"Yami?"

He looked over at the confused Bakura. The dim light could not show the paleness of his skin, but the fact that he had abruptly stopped made the boy concerned.

"What's wrong?" Bakura shifted his weight. "It's not this forest, is it? Even though it's terribly disturbing. . . ."

Yami Bakura hesitated, then slowly, deliberately, started walking again. "Tell me, Bakura," he said, as the teen scrambled to come alongside. "After all that we've been through . . . after everything I've done that you've forgiven . . . is there anything I could do that you would not be able to forgive?"

Bakura stared at him, his brown eyes wide and shocked. "Yami," he gasped. "What brought this on?"

A shrug. "Just answer me," Yami Bakura growled.

Bakura looked away. ". . . I've never thought about it," he said. "I don't really want to. But . . . if it's that important to you, Yami . . . I suppose that if you went back to your old ways, after all this, then I might be so upset and angry I wouldn't want to forgive you." He looked back, his eyes saddened. "But that would mainly be because you would be throwing away your second chance at life, and I can't bear to think of you doing that."

Yami Bakura grunted. "There's no other reason you can think of?"

Bakura shook his head. "Not offhand, no. Yami, what on earth is wrong?!" Now he looked more worried than ever.

The last thing Yami Bakura wanted to tell him was that his concerns were based solely on a ridiculous, recurring dream. "It's nothing," he said. Then he paused. "But don't worry, Bakura. I will never go back to what I was."

Bakura tried to manage a weak smile. "I know," he said. "The wizard is right, you know . . . about your noble soul." He looked down. "I just wish I knew why he said what he said to me. . . ."

"So do I," Yami Bakura said.

". . . I admit I've been trying to deny how much I despise and loathe Yami Marik," Bakura said. "I've hated before; I know it's a very dangerous path to tread. But . . ." He shook his head. "I can't stop my feelings, Yami. I can't stop hating him! Every time I try, he does some new treachery that makes it all fall apart again."

Yami Bakura was silent for a moment. "He does it on purpose," he growled. "He wants you to hate him. He wants all of us to hate him. The more we do, the more power he has over us."

"I suppose so. . . ." Bakura heaved a sigh. "But . . . just admitting those feelings are there isn't doing anything to change them." He stiffened as his father gave a cry up ahead. "Father?!" he exclaimed, running forward.

Mr. Bakura was shaking, staring up at a heavy tree's branches. The long vines hanging draped over it were moving as if in an invisible wind, reaching out for him. He stepped back, gripping his flashlight.

"It's like the wizard said," he gasped. "There really is some devilry going on in here."

Bakura's eyes widened. "N-nice tree?" he ventured cautiously. "Nice vines?"

The plant continued to wave, grabbing for him now as well. He flinched, backing up. Yami Bakura got between him and it, his lavender eyes flashing with anger and annoyance.

"All we want is to find the exit," he said. "We're not doing anything to harm you, so leave us be!"

The tree shook violently, not pleased or impressed. One vine shot out without warning, striking him across the face. He snarled, stumbling back from the force of the pressure.

"Yami!" Bakura exclaimed, reaching to support his friend. He took hold of Yami Bakura's shoulders, helping to steady him as he regained his balance.

Yami Bakura glowered at the vines, which were weaving back and forth as if celebrating their accomplishment. "So," he snarled, "that's how it's going to be, eh?" The Infinity Ring began to pulse as he readied it for an attack. "Do you think we're going to just stand by and let you assault us?!"

"No, Yami!" Bakura exclaimed, clutching his shoulders. "Let it go. Let's just try to keep moving."

"It won't even let us pass!" Yami Bakura fumed. And then, suddenly realizing something else, he looked around with a start. "What happened to that fairy?!" he demanded. "Did she abandon us after all?!"

Bakura and his father started, the thief's words fully dawning on them. Thistle was nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe she's in trouble too," Bakura suggested in concern.

"Why would the forest harm a forest fairy?!" Mr. Bakura exclaimed.

"Maybe it thinks she's betraying it by helping us?" Bakura worried.

"Some help she's been," Yami Bakura growled. "We're better off without her." But he stepped towards the edge of the road in resigned annoyance as he continued to look for her. If she was in danger, they could not very well leave her, he supposed. Even though he still had a hard time believing she was in a situation she could not get out of on her own.

Without warning she was in his face. "What are you standing around here for?!" she exclaimed, her hands on her hips. "We need to keep moving!"

Yami Bakura rocked back, fury and indignation flashing in his eyes. "And just where did you go off to?" he retorted. "We could have left you behind, you know. Perhaps we should have."

"I was talking to the trees!" Thistle shot back. "They don't want to let you get through. It's only because I'm with you, on the wizard's request, that they're going to grudgingly agree." She flew above him, looking smug. "So you really don't want to leave me behind. I'm your ticket out of here!"

Bakura watched her hopefully. "So we won't be attacked by any more vines or get blown about by trees?" he said.

She paused. "Well . . . yeah," she said. "But that doesn't mean the other stuff in the forest will treat you nice."

"'Other stuff'?" Mr. Bakura repeated, his heart sinking.

"Yeah, like the holes and the dead people and that kinda stuff," Thistle said.

Bakura cringed. "Do we really have to pass that Pool of the Dead?" he moaned.

"It's right off the only path," Thistle shrugged. "We'll be walking and flying right by it." She watched as the nearby tree seemed to sigh and lower the waving vines. "So let's keep going."

Yami Bakura glared at her but then walked past the thick-trunked tree. Invisible eyes bored into his back as he went. Though he bristled at the sensation, he tried to mostly ignore it.

"I still wonder who would have died here," he said. "Those that the trees would not allow to escape?"

"Mostly, yeah," Thistle said. "That's why they won't answer to the trees, either."

"That's terrible!" Bakura exclaimed as he and the others followed Yami Bakura. "Why wouldn't the trees let them go? Was it really just because they don't like people?"

Several trees made low, growling groans in response. Bakura cringed, moving closer to Yami Bakura. His father did likewise. Thistle flew overhead, not looking impressed.

"No!" she retorted. "That's not it at all. Most of them didn't even deserve to get out. They were criminals on the run, evil spellcasters, people chopping trees just to get money . . . that kinda thing."

Yami Bakura sneered. "I would have thought you would sympathize with mercenaries," he said. "Being one yourself."

She noticeably bristled. "I'm not like _that!_" she cried. "I'd never hurt a tree, or condone it, unless you really, really needed the wood for something."

"Alright," Mr. Bakura broke in, "enough of that. Stay alert for those open holes that close up after you."

"Some of them aren't even open," Thistle said. "They're disguised as normal grass or dirt. Then when you step down . . . _wham!_" She gestured wildly with her hands. "And they close over again!"

"Wonderful." Mr. Bakura pushed up his glasses. "So you're basically buried alive."

Bakura shuddered. "But if the trees are going to help us, shouldn't they make sure we don't have trouble like that?" he said.

"They probably figure that not trying to hurt you themselves is enough of a favor," Thistle said.

Bakura looked about nervously at their surroundings. The trees stood on either side of the road, tall and strong and ominous as they loomed above the travelers. Some of them grunted and groaned in annoyed disapproval or even resigned sadness. But then the boy stiffened, staring. Was it his imagination or had one of the largest trees moved slightly closer to them? No, it was impossible!

Still staring, he took another step forward. Then he gasped as the thick trunk eased itself a centimeter over, lowering its branches ever so slowly towards the party.

"Yami!" he screamed.

Everyone jumped a mile. "What _is _it?!" Yami Bakura demanded in annoyed frustration.

Bakura grabbed the tomb-raider's arm. "Yami, that tree is moving!" he burst out, pointing in its direction.

"All the trees are moving," Yami Bakura retorted. But he looked over at it anyway. Now it was standing perfectly still; not even a twig shivered.

Bakura swallowed hard. "It _was_ moving," he hissed. "It slid over on the grass. It's trying to come closer to us!"

Mr. Bakura stared too. "I'm starting to feel like anything is possible in this place," he said. "Be careful; don't get too close!"

Thistle sighed. "The trees aren't gonna hurt us," she said. "I already _said . . ._"

But she was cut off as the old tree's limbs shot forward, smacking Mr. Bakura hard in the back. He gave a startled cry of pain, flying forward several yards and then crashing on the path, tumbling three times from the momentum.

Bakura cried out too, in alarm and outrage. "Father!" he wailed, running over to the stunned man.

Yami Bakura snarled, glowering at the quaking tree. "I hope you rot," he said before quickening his pace to get over to the others.

"Is he alright?" he called to Bakura, who was helping his father sit up.

"I think so," Bakura said. "Nothing's broken, is it, Father?!" he gasped.

"I'll live," Mr. Bakura groaned, his glasses slipping down his nose. "What _was_ that?!"

"The tree!" Bakura exclaimed. "The tree did it!" He cast a look over his shoulder. The other trees were rocking now, some seeming to be scolding the culprit while others seemed pleased. The latter trees brought their limbs up in cheering, victorious motions before swinging at the group.

Thistle yelped in horror. "I can't control them!" she said. "Run, you've gotta run!"

"An excellent idea," Yami Bakura growled. "I would prefer taking out this section of the forest, but in the interest of time I won't bother." He helped Bakura haul the dazed James to his feet. "Let's go!"

"Wait!" Bakura exclaimed, ducking as a nearby tree swiped at him. "Father, will you be able to run?" he asked, looking to the man in concern.

Mr. Bakura gasped, clutching both Bakura and the Thief King. "I don't think there's any choice!" he said. The truth was, his back was wildly throbbing and badly bruised. Once the sting passed, he hoped he would be alright, but there was no time to wait for that to happen. They had to leave now!

Yami Bakura growled, but pulled one of James's arms around his shoulders. "We can't risk you falling behind," he said. "Come on!"

Quickly Bakura followed suit with his father's other arm. Then they were tearing down the path as fast as they could go. Behind them, the trees swiped and shook and roared in frustration.

Thistle flew overhead, possibly even more panic-stricken than the humans due to her small size. "Keep going! Keep going!" she exclaimed. "The only way to make them stop is to cross the Pool of the Dead!"

"_Cross_ it?!" Bakura said in horror. "I thought we only had to walk by it!"

"Change of plan!" Thistle squealed, shrieking as another tree swiped a branch dangerously close to her tiny body. She leaped aside, watching as it narrowly missed striking Bakura on the back of his head. Feeling the touch of the leaves against his hair, the boy gasped and dove forward, ducking down at the same time.

"Even the trees don't have anything to do with the Pool of the Dead!" the fairy said now. "They hate it and want it gone, but since they don't have any power over the dead, they leave it alone!"

"Then for Heaven's sake, why do they keep _killing people_ and adding to their problem?!" Yami Bakura yelled in sheer frustration.

At that moment a root shot out of the ground, attempting to latch onto his ankle. With a snarl of disgust he side-stepped it, crashing into Mr. Bakura in the process. The museum director winced in pain, about to protest when he saw the bobbing and weaving root about to strike again.

"Go to the right!" he ordered.

But as they swerved to the other side of the path, more roots appeared from that direction. Bakura jumped a mile in his struggle to avoid one that was suddenly under his feet.

"It's no use!" he said. "We'll never make it to the pool!"

"We have to make it!" Yami Bakura retorted. "Ring, protect us from this witchery!"

The Infinity Ring glowed brighter, sending its white beams upon the four of them and shrouding them in its light. The trees creaked and grunted and growled, startled for the moment. There had not been light such as this deep within the forest for many years. But as they recovered they still tried to swipe at the party, furious that a human possessed such a bright thing.

"Keep going!" Yami Bakura directed.

"How much farther is this pool?!" Mr. Bakura exclaimed.

"I don't even know anymore!" Thistle wailed. "I can't think! These stupid trees . . . ohhh!" She dodged to the side as another one struck out at her. The failed hit resulted in more leaves raining down on Bakura and the others.

Yami Bakura spat one out that landed in his mouth. "So much for trying to accommodate the trees," he snarled ironically. "Even you can't take it now!"

"Even a generally easy-going fairy like me has a breaking point!" Thistle said.

"If you're easy-going, I wonder what your high-strung fairies are like," Yami Bakura shot back. "Though on second thought, I don't think I really want to know!"

They ran deeper into the forest, encompassed by furious trees on all sides. Bakura could barely make out something dark and round just ahead of them.

"Look out, it's a hole!" he cried.

"Right in the middle of the road too!" Yami Bakura growled. "We'll have to separate to get around it." He let go of Mr. Bakura, leaving him to Bakura as he ran to the left of the gaping opening. Bakura's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly adapted to the situation and steadied his father as they ran to the right. Thistle flew between the two groups, high above the hole.

"Oh no!" she shrieked.

"Now what?!" Yami Bakura snapped.

She paid no attention to him. "Slow down, slow down, _slow down!_" she wailed at the others.

"What is it?!" Bakura asked in horror.

But just then he struck the end of a log that had somehow found its way into the path. With a shocked cry echoed by James, the boy went down, taking Mr. Bakura with him.

Yami Bakura arrived while they were still trying to get disentangled. "What madness is this?!" he said, bending down to help them. "A log is dead. What harm can it cause?" But even as he spoke, he became aware that every tree had gone still. The silence was loud and ominous. Every word they spoke echoed with an eerie, hollow quality.

"The Pool of the Dead," Bakura whispered as he grasped the thief's hand. From where he was sprawled on the ground, he could easily see the murky water lapping against the bank underneath the log. Wisps of fog and mist rose from the surface, lunging towards him in the form of a hand before dissolving again.

Mr. Bakura stared. "If we hadn't struck the log, we would have fallen in," he realized.

"But now you have to cross the log!" Thistle said.

Yami Bakura snarled. "It's better than plunging right into the dead's pool," he said.

Bakura got to his feet, helping his father stand. But his attention was divided as he gazed at the pool. Everything looked so still now; not even the fog was afoot. Maybe it had only been in his mind. There was no fog here.

"The log seems sturdy enough," he said with some hesitation. "Maybe it's safe. . . ."

"Only if it likes you," Thistle said.

"It's _dead,_" Yami Bakura stressed again. "Unless it's being manipulated by the evil spirits lurking here." He looked around, his eyes narrowed. "The presence I felt when we encountered the skeleton is far stronger."

"Well, whatever, it _moves,_" Thistle said. "It throws you into the water if it doesn't like you. Then the spirits of the dead rise out of the pool and try to drag you down with them!"

Bakura went sheet-white. Mr. Bakura was staring again. But Yami Bakura was not impressed.

"After three thousand years, I've seen far more frightening things," he objected. "Get on the log and we'll go." He gestured at Bakura and James in a shooing motion. "I'll come behind you. If it starts to throw you off, I'll see that you're protected."

Bakura looked back at him in concern. "Are you sure, Yami?" he said.

"I'm not sure at all," Yami Bakura grumped. "I'd rather bypass this pool altogether. But we'll never find the exit with the trees ganging up on us, and if there's any possible way to turn the situation around, we need to take advantage of it." His eyes narrowed. "If it doesn't work, then I swear I really will use the Ring to take out the next section of forest!"

If any words could have stirred the trees, it should have been those. But instead every limb and twig stayed in place. This, more than anything else, testified to the group that the trees truly did leave the pool alone.

However, it also made them much more aware that the trees likely believed they would not get across.

"Haven't you safely escorted people to the end of the forest before?" Mr. Bakura frowned, looking to Thistle.

The fairy shrugged. "I take people to the wizard's place," she said. "I've said that before. What happens to them after that is their own problem, unless they've still got the stuff they promised me!"

"You misled us!" Yami Bakura burst out. "You deliberately made us think you had gone to the other end of the forest more than once! But instead it was only another ploy to get us to agree to your help!"

"So what?!" Thistle retorted.

"Let's just go," Mr. Bakura interjected, though he was clearly unhappy as well.

Bakura gave a nervous nod. "I'll go first," he volunteered. If the log started to throw them off, Yami Bakura would be able to help Mr. Bakura easier than Bakura could, being older and stronger. And Bakura wanted to make sure his father would be protected.

But the man was not in favor of the plan. "I should go first," he said. His back was still bothering him. If Bakura started to fall, there was a chance that James would not be able to catch him. He would rather make certain that his son would have the safest possible passage across the pool.

"If the log was wider, I would say you should both go first and that would be the end of it," Yami Bakura said grouchily. "But it's only wide enough for single-file, so that unfortunately won't work." He was also thinking of the possible consequences were they to start tumbling off the log. He would not be able to save both of them at once if they needed it. And it was selfish, he supposed, but he wanted to be sure that he could save Bakura.

Yet on the other hand, Bakura had already had so much experience with spirits and the supernatural. If he were to fall in the pool, he might be able to withstand the ghosts' pull long enough for Yami Bakura to rescue James and go after Bakura too. If James were to fall in, Yami Bakura was honestly not sure how well he would fare. But he was an intelligent man, trying to adapt to the bizarre nature of what was going on around them. Completely aside from that, however, he was injured, which was on Bakura's mind too.

"I'll be fine, Thief," Mr. Bakura broke into his thoughts with impatience. "Just see that Ryou is safe."

"He's already crossing!" Thistle announced.

Both men looked at the log in shock. Bakura had indeed started out, determined to be first. He was walking over the natural bridge with a firm, no-nonsense gait. But as the log wobbled he gasped, throwing out his arms for balance.

"Ryou!" James cried, lunging at the log and his son. Yami Bakura was right behind him, cursing in Egyptian.

Bakura fell forward on his knees, clutching the log with shaking hands. "I'm alright," he said, managing a weak smile though he did not dare look behind him. "See? I haven't fallen overboard. And the log is holding steady now. Maybe it was an accident that it swayed. I could have caused it myself."

"Maybe," Yami Bakura said, "but I doubt it." He narrowed his eyes. "Get up and let's be off. The sooner we get across this foul place the better."

"I might do better if I just crawl," Bakura said with a wan chuckle. "It might be easier for all of us. At least that way we'll have something to hold on to!" He slid forward on the log, wincing as the old bark dug into his hands. "On the other hand, we could get quite scraped. . . ."

"Better scraped than falling in the pool," Yami Bakura retorted.

Mr. Bakura had to concur.

The trip across the log was tense, even though they were moving slower and gripping at the wood. The log was not pleased with so many going over at once, and probably not pleased with any of them, either. It shifted from one side to the other, bucking like a bronco. Bakura yelped in alarm, while James and Yami Bakura gritted their teeth and hung on for dear life. Thistle flew over them, yelling at them to keep going. But as the dead rose from the water and began to surround the log, it became more and more difficult.

"They're here!" Bakura rasped, his eyes filled with terror. The mists swirled around his body, forming the vague shapes of lost human souls. They stared at him, reaching for him, touching him. He could feel them penetrating his skin and brushing against his spirit.

_Come with us,_ they told him. _It's alright. Follow us into the water. You'll never be alone as long as we're here. We'll be your friends from now on._

"Stop it!" he cried, taking his hands off the log to clap over his ears. "I'm not going to do it. Stop it!" He trembled, tightly shutting his eyes. There was no escape.

_You miss her, don't you?_ others said to James as they encircled him. _You miss her so much. But she's here, she's been here with us the whole time. Follow us into the water and you will see her again._

He stared, shaking, his eyes wide. "No," he said. "No, that's impossible. Ayoko wouldn't be here. She wouldn't have come to this depraved spot after her death!" But the grief that still had such a strong hold on his heart was tugging harder. What if it was true? What if he could see her again?

_You've lost loved ones too,_ still more said to Yami Bakura. _They're all with us. Don't hate us; come with us._

Several wisps of mist moved closer together, merging and forming the image of a child---a four-year-old girl with whitish hair. She smiled at the thief, beckoning to him with one hand.

_Come with me, brother,_ she said softly.

Yami Bakura was frozen, gazing at the sister he had not seen for three thousand years. "Amunet," he whispered. She was here, but . . . why? Why would the spirits of Earth's dead be in Juno? Why would they be in such a horrible place?

Of course, they would not.

His eyes flashed. "Be gone from me," he hissed.

The image looked crushed. _But brother! . . ._

"You are not my sister," Yami Bakura snarled. He rose to his feet, his robe flying out around him as the Infinity Ring glowed. "Cease your trickery! We are going to pass to the other side of this pool."

His words pierced the others' minds. Bakura and James stood as well, their eyes filled with determination. The cloudy spectres glared, furious at this display.

"I am not alone," Bakura said. "I don't need your company and I never will!"

"You don't have Ayoko with you," James declared. "It's a lie."

The ghosts shrieked, still trying to claw at the mortals with all their might. But their combined resilience and the Infinity Ring's power were driving the wandering spirits back to the pool.

In relief, and at Thistle's urging, Bakura and Mr. Bakura resumed their pace, upright this time. Yami Bakura moved to join them, but paused a moment, observing the wailing phantoms returning to the water.

"Stay there, where you belong," he growled. "We are going onward."

_But you belong here too,_ one hissed in a last attempt at victory. _You are hiding your true self. Your physical body is but a shadow of true mortality. You are one of us, one of the dead._

Yami Bakura wavered. To some extent, those words were true. He was not fully mortal; he relied on the mystical Ring to draw breath. If he were to lose it, he would be intangible, incorporeal. Subconsciously a hand went to the silver object, covering it and pressing it against his chest.

". . . My true self may be dead," he said at last, "but I am not one of you. I will never be one of you. You are wanderers; you don't know your place.

"I know mine."

With that he walked past, over to where the worried Bakura and the uneasy James were waiting on the other side of the log.

As he went across, it held still.

"Yami!" Bakura exclaimed in relief as he stepped onto the ground. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," Yami Bakura grunted. He glanced up at the silent trees. Would they really leave the group alone now that they had passed the pool's test? He was not willing to trust them. "Let's get out of here before something else goes wrong."

"I thought they had you for a minute," Thistle said, flying into his face. "They shook you up pretty bad!"

He rocked back with a snarl. "I would never give them the satisfaction," he said. "And I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of watching me fall!"

She glowered, then whirled away with her nose in the air and her arms crossed. "Hmph!" She faced the path that stretched ahead of them. "We'll be parting ways at the end of the forest, and it'll be a relief. Let's get this over with."

Bakura nodded. "Thank you for all that you've done for us so far," he said as he walked past.

"What has she done?" Yami Bakura retorted. "Nothing we couldn't have accomplished ourselves."

Bakura sighed. "Yami. . . . You could at least try to be courteous. . . ."

"Why should I?" Yami Bakura answered. "There's no reason for it."

He looked ahead as well. Off in the distance, there was a small light shining out of the deep darkness that surrounded them. That was their destination.

And after that, then what? Would they follow the wizard's assessment that they would stop at the fifth village? Would the people there have a clue to the mysterious Door? Perhaps they would even have some news of this Fafnir or of Yami Marik.

There was no point thinking on it. They needed to simply leave and find out for themselves.

But even though they resumed their journey in peace from the angry trees, he realized something that only increased his concerns.

The unsettling feeling from when they had left Azhi Dahaka's home was still there.

If anything, it had grown stronger.


	8. A Glimmering Light

**Notes: I've tweaked and added some things throughout. Thanks to Chibi Heishi for pointing out some things in need of correction or explanation. I'm afraid I've sometimes become lax on necessary details, minna-san. I must try to correct this in future chapters, as well as in the previous ones, if I can.**

**Chapter Eight**

**A Glimmering Light**

**Prompt: #15 - **_**Finding the Enemy**_

True to Thistle's word, the remainder of the forest provided relatively safe passage---though not necessarily quick. Two hours later they were still in the woods, even though the light was always visible in the distance, growing larger and closer as they traversed more ground. The group kept it in sight, using it as their Northern Star to make certain they were going the right direction. Sometimes it became concealed by trees or brush as they wound around the path, and then they scrambled to get to where they could see it once more.

Yami Bakura was still tense as they made their way out of the forest, though now a different reason had taken precedence in his mind. He could not shake the feeling that they were being followed. In fact, he was becoming increasingly sure that that had been the source of his unease since they had departed the Pool of the Dead. Had someone lain in wait, hoping that they would make it across the pool, and then had quietly begun to shadow them when they succeeded?

"Yami?" Bakura broke into his thoughts. "Do you still see the light?" He glanced around worriedly. "I still haven't been able to figure out where it is after we lost it behind the thick vines. . . ."

"Wait a minute," the thief growled, holding out a hand to keep Bakura from stepping any further forward. He stared into the distance, his eyes narrowed as he searched for any sign of a spy. If the stalker was dressed appropriately, and knew where to hide, he could be almost anywhere.

Yami Bakura stiffened. Had something moved between the massive tree trunks to their left? It had looked like the light from his Ring had touched on something dark and shifting, but now there was nothing. All was still.

"What's wrong?!" Bakura exclaimed. "Yami . . ."

There it was again. Something had definitely moved. Yami Bakura snarled, looking back to the bewildered boy.

"We're being followed," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

Bakura's mouth dropped open. "Are you sure?!" he gasped. Every time they thought things were at last getting better, something always seemed to happen to set them back. His normally-long-suffering personality was starting to draw near to its snapping point.

"Yes!" Yami Bakura said in impatience.

Overhearing the latter part of the conversation, Mr. Bakura and Thistle turned to look. "What should we do about it?" Mr. Bakura frowned. "They could catch us unawares if we let them keep coming."

"There might even be more than one person back there," Yami Bakura said. If he was by himself, he would chance it and confront whoever it was. But when Bakura was here, and there was a possibility that he could be injured if Yami Bakura investigated, the Egyptian was not sure what to do. Bakura could also be injured if they were suddenly attacked later, as his father had predicted.

"We'll keep going for now," he decided then. "But stay on guard. At least one entity is in those trees." He indicated the left.

"Well, I say we should check it out right now," Thistle retorted.

"And I say we don't," Yami Bakura growled.

Bakura looked to the fairy. "Do you have any idea who it might be, Thistle?" he asked.

But she shook her head. "No idea," she said. "Maybe it's just someone who got lost and hoped that if he followed us, we'd get him to the way out."

"I doubt it," Yami Bakura said. He would not have such a feeling of concern if it was only that. "Now, let's keep going." He pushed Bakura ahead of him as he walked further from the trees, casting another glance over his shoulder as he went. Nothing moved.

Thistle flew ahead of him. "The light's over there," she said, pointing mostly ahead but slightly to the right.

The group maneuvered their way through the brush and roots that had started growing right on the road, being careful not to trip. Bakura gasped as what looked like a skeletal hand under the bushes caught his eye. "A Boneman?!" he exclaimed.

Thistle just looked at it. "If it is, it's not animated," she said. "This one's just a regular dead body. Probably someone who got tangled up and then couldn't get out."

"How horrible!" Bakura cried, his eyes wide.

"Or it could've been a murder, I guess," Thistle said. "Sometimes people kill and then drag the bodies in here. Since hardly anyone comes in the forest, they're hardly ever found."

"Oh my." Bakura gingerly moved away from the hand. But he frowned as something else occurred to him. "Would the trees let the murderers go?" he wondered. "You said the people who don't get out have usually done something wrong."

"Yeah, I know," Thistle said with a shrug. "And since they wouldn't have crossed the pool, the trees probably don't let them out. Except for the trees that are really angry and would probably be glad to see all humans go bye-bye. But most of them aren't that extreme."

Mr. Bakura was staring now. "Some of the trees are that angry because of man's carelessness in taking care of plantlife?!" he said.

"Hardly any," Thistle said. "Most of them still think there's good humans too."

"I thought I couldn't feel any more disturbed," Bakura said. "Please, let's hurry and go! I think I'd rather deal with whatever might be following us." He looked to the left again, but upon still seeing nothing, he hopped over a root in his way and kept going.

The others were quickly in hot pursuit. As they got past the aboveground roots, the light reemerged, lazily peering through the tree branches and leaves just ahead.

"We're almost out!" Bakura said in relief. "Then we just have to get to that fifth village."

"We'll have to restock our supplies at the first one, since we'll be relieved of the majority of our flashlights," Yami Bakura grumbled. "And who knows what else."

But then he stiffened again. "Stop!" he ordered.

Stunned, Bakura ground to a halt, nearly causing James to plow into him. Thistle, though not affected by the near-collision, was annoyed.

"Hey, what's the deal?!" she demanded, clenching her fists as she glowered at Yami Bakura.

"Be quiet!" Yami Bakura said in response. "Listen!" He pointed to the bushes parallel with them on the left. Forty yards away from the road, but almost directly across, something was crashing through the brush.

"It's not even trying to hide itself anymore," Thistle noted. "It's probably a hungry animal."

"And we're the prey!" Mr. Bakura exclaimed.

"It's not coming closer to us," Yami Bakura growled. "Now it's straight over and has stopped. It's waiting for us to keep going. The fact that it no longer cares if we know about its presence must mean it thinks it has the advantage." He turned to look towards the light, which was now much brighter. Were there others waiting to ambush them when they got up to it? Who? Robbers, perhaps? Surely Fafnir would not be after them, not like this at least.

But that was something else that bothered him. Why would Fafnir care about three travelers at all? They had only received very vague and unsatisfying answers on the matter. Was there something they did not know that would make Fafnir want something to do with them? Would he really try to get them to find the box and the pendant for him, or was there something else? If he already had both of those objects, then there would have to be another reason why he would come after them.

"Bah!" he growled under his breath. "We're barely told anything by anyone. It's as if we're only puppets, being manipulated according to the puppeteers' whims."

Bakura turned to stare at him. "You think that too, Yami?" he said.

"The more I think about it, yes I do!" Yami Bakura said. "I have this feeling something is expected of us. Why is everyone so helpful? Why did the wizard want the fairy to come with us to the end of the forest? You heard what she said---it isn't something he's ever done. His response to her when she asked why was not satisfying at all, just like everything else we've been told! We're only being given bits and pieces of an overall story!" His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps they think that if we knew what we were really being made to do, we would refuse. And I don't know but what I would. If they want something of us, they should say so outright!"

Mr. Bakura was alarmed. "I admit, I've been wondering about these things myself," he said. "Nothing seems to quite add up. And without having more information, we don't have much choice but to follow the path we've been set on." But that did not mean he did not plan to try to get a clearer idea of what was going on by speaking with other people when they got out of the forest. He had been around long enough to know that blindly plunging into anything was a bad idea. However, so far they had not had much chance to speak with anyone other than those whom they had been directed to find. And in a strange world that they did not know, for the time being it seemed better to follow some plan rather than attempting to make their own way.

Bakura looked around in nervousness. "It _has_ almost felt like some kind of role-playing game," he said slowly, toying with the items in his left pocket. "The quest for the Door. . . . Wizards, fairies, fantastic creatures. . . . I really haven't understood, and I've been suspicious, even though I've tried not to show it and instead hope for the best. And oh dear, I meant to ask Azhi Dahaka about that 'emerald streams' thing too," he remembered with a sigh. "I was hoping he would know what that riddle was all about, and why we each heard something different at the entrance of the forest as well as at the crossroads."

"And I doubt he would have given you a straight answer," Yami Bakura said.

The bushes rustled again. Whoever was in there was leaning forward, trying to hear their lowered conversation. And Yami Bakura's waning patience bent back and snapped.

"What's wrong?" he sneered, raising his voice. "Are you afraid we're talking about you?"

Bakura stared, his mouth dropping open. "Yami," he gasped.

"Or perhaps you wonder if we suspect your ambush," Yami Bakura continued.

Again the foliage moved, but that was the only reaction.

Yami Bakura turned away in irritation. "He's not planning to talk," he said. "Let's just keep going."

Without warning an arrow sailed across the space between them and the spy's hiding place, stabbing into the ground at Yami Bakura's feet. He looked down at it with a growl while the others stared in varying states of shock and alarm.

"Now you've done it!" Thistle burst out.

Yami Bakura reached down, picking the arrow out of the ground. "So, he's finally chosen to show us his true colors," he said. "I was getting bored waiting for it to happen." He waved the weapon at the bushes. "Are you the only one we have to contend with? Or are there more?" He licked his lips. "We're not afraid of you. Come out, if you're as brave as you are trying to appear!"

Mr. Bakura stiffened. "Sometimes I don't understand you at all," he said.

"Is this really a good idea, Yami?" Bakura exclaimed.

"We're going to have to fight him sooner or later," Yami Bakura said. "Why wait until we're exposed and vulnerable outside the forest? Rather, let's do it now and have it over and done with."

"Will he even come out?" Bakura wondered, his gaze fixed on the rustling bushes.

His question was answered as a tall, husky man stepped into the open. His shaggy dark hair hung around his face, his flashing eyes standing out as they focused on the group. In his hands he held a bow with an arrow loosely pulling back the spring, pointed at the group.

"Foul invaders of Juno!" he cried. "I have come to take back what you have stolen! I do not fear you or your tricks!"

Everyone stared.

"We're not invaders!" Bakura retorted with indignation.

"It's not as if we wanted to come here," Yami Bakura snarled. "And just what do you think we've stolen?"

Annoyed, Thistle flew out in front of them. "Hey!" she said, her arms akimbo. "These guys are with me. Azhi Dahaka instructed me to stay with them until they got out of the forest!"

"Naturally because he knew they were thieves and that a terrible surprise would be waiting for them if they got this far!" the strange man replied.

"Preposterous," Yami Bakura retorted. "Why not take care of us himself?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "You think quite highly of yourself, don't you?"

The brunet blinked. "I am a great warrior of Juno!" he said. "I fight any and all enemies to our land!" The arrow pulled taut. "Now, release the forbidden magic!"

"'Forbidden magic'?!" Mr. Bakura burst out. "The box? We don't have it; it was stolen from us!"

"Ha!" the marksman said. "Now I know for certain you lie. It's gone abroad in all of Juno that the forbidden magic has returned from the other world, being destructively wielded by a dark-skinned, light-haired man like your companion."

Bakura gasped. "It's not Yami!" he cried, gripping Yami Bakura's arm.

Yami Bakura's visage twisted in disgust at this revelation. "The boy is right," he said. "The man who stole your box is the same nationality as I. He took this thing from us, but we were not using it."

"It was just discovered in our world," James put in. "I was trying to study it; I had no idea what it was."

"We were sent here by this person!" Bakura said. "We've been looking for him everywhere, but there's been no sign of him!"

"And we haven't described him to anyone," Yami Bakura said. "The fact that you have a vague description of him indicates that he is boldly roaming your country, using this magic wherever he pleases." And it meant Fafnir did not have access to the thing, unless Yami Marik actually was working for him.

"This is true." The broad man wavered, considering what he was being told. "But he was last seen near the forest." His eyes narrowed again. "So I came here to wait and watch! When I saw the three of you crossing the Pool of the Dead, and I saw you in particular, I was certain I had found the thief. And I still don't know that I haven't!"

Bakura was alarmed. "He was coming this way?!" he cried.

"He has something planned for us," Yami Bakura growled. "Perhaps he's going to meet us. But on the other hand, he might be deliberately trying to implicate me in his crimes!"

"Perhaps," said the stranger. "Perhaps not."

"We've come with the blessings of the queen, as well as the wizard," Mr. Bakura said. He was desperate for something that would keep this person from attacking them again. Not only did they not have the resources to contend with flying arrows, but they needed to hurry. He wanted to be out of this forest before dark.

The vigilante looked at him with suspicion at his announcement. "Can you prove this?" he asked.

"We gathered supplies at the palace," Mr. Bakura returned. "The packs have the royal seal on them." He slid his own bag off his shoulders, turning it around so that the symbol was clearly visible.

Their assailant stared at it. "Well ... this could still be a trick," he said. "But my allegiance is to the royal house. Until I learn otherwise, I have no choice but to accept this tale now that you have presented the seal." He lowered the bow and arrow.

Bakura breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness," he said.

Yami Bakura was still on his guard. "The one you are looking for has blond hair, not white," he said, hoping to get the man to go away.

"And it's spiked up," Bakura said, gesturing with a hand above his head.

The marksman raised an eyebrow. "How strange," he said. "I wonder why no one has reported this."

Bakura thought for a moment. "Well . . . I suppose he could be pressing his hair down with the hood of the purple cloak he was wearing," he said. "If he really is trying to frame Yami, he wouldn't want his hair to be seen."

"'Yami'?" the other repeated. "Is that your name?" He looked back to Yami Bakura, who grunted.

"It's good enough," he said.

Suddenly realizing something, Bakura blinked. "Why, we haven't introduced ourselves, have we," he said. "I'm Ryou Bakura."

Yami Bakura stared at him, shaking his head. "You polite and proper British," he muttered.

"In this case, introductions might be a good thing," Mr. Bakura said. To the vigilante he said, "And I am James Bakura."

"I'm Thistle, their guide," Thistle said with a self-assured smirk.

The dark-haired man barely acknowledged her, instead staring at the humans in confusion. "You're all Bakura?" he said. "You don't look related." He peered at Yami Bakura, suspicion once more creeping into his eyes.

"He's a very distant cousin from another country in our world," Bakura quickly interjected. "Our family line split in quite different directions." He rubbed the back of his neck.

After another doubt-filled stare, the brunet gave a slow nod. "I am Volker," he said. Placing his arrow back in the quiver, he went on, "I know my leader, Adelpha, would like to meet you."

"Leader?" Yami Bakura frowned. "There's more of your kind?"

"Oh that's right," Bakura blinked. "We've been told about the rebel group."

Yami Bakura was not impressed. "We have our own business," he said. "We don't have time to be socializing."

Volker's eyes flashed. "This wouldn't be a social meeting," he said. "Adelpha will want to know everything about this person who has the forbidden magic."

"Where is your group located?" Mr. Bakura queried.

"We have our base at the fifth village from the forest's edge," Volker said.

Bakura started. "Really?!" He looked to the equally stunned James and Yami Bakura. "That's where the wizard said we were supposed to go!"

Yami Bakura growled, displeased. He did not want to be in the company of this character for very long, nor did he want the rebels to try to rope them into helping their movement, which he could imagine they might. But when this corresponded with the wizard's only directions for them, did they have much choice other than to investigate?

James was frowning, considering all that they had been told. At last he nodded. "Let's see what's there," he said. "Then we might be able to figure out where to go next."

Annoyed but agreeable, Yami Bakura consented, as did Bakura.

"Very well," Yami Bakura said, looking back to Volker. "We will come with you. But we have our own path after that. We don't have time to get mixed up in any of your rebellion's plans."

"We are trying to catch the one who stole the forbidden magic, though," Bakura put in.

"Which we will do on our own," Yami Bakura said.

"You like to be independent," Volker observed. "We'll see what happens after you talk with Adelpha."

"You're far too confident," Yami Bakura said.

Thistle flew ahead of them. "The light's getting dimmer," she said. "It must be almost night by now." She turned, smirking at the group. "You'd better be grateful I'm so generous! I've decided you can keep your flashlights and that shiny timepiece thing until we get to the village!"

Yami Bakura stared at her. "_You're_ coming to the village?!" he cried.

Her smirk only deepened. "Yep, to keep track of my possessions," she said.

Bakura scratched his cheek. "I'm almost starting to think you just want to come with us," he said in a playful, innocent voice.

Thistle was not amused. "What?!" she shrieked. "You're okay, and your dad, but why would I want to hang around him?!" She pointed at Yami Bakura. "I'm only coming so you don't back out of our agreement! I still want your stuff!"

"Have it your way," Bakura smiled. "And I'm certainly grateful for your kindness. We all are, aren't we?" He glanced at the others. Mr. Bakura gave an awkward nod and a "Yes", while Yami Bakura just grunted.

Volker headed down the path ahead of them. "The fairy is right, that the light is waning," he said over his shoulder. "Come! We must leave the forest before nightfall."

"Not that we don't agree perfectly on that point, but is there something that will happen if we don't?" Yami Bakura growled as they followed. He glanced up at the strong, silent trees towering high above their heads.

"You have seen how menacing the forest is during the day," Volker said. "Under cover of night, it's even worse. There are rumors that some trees have the power to leave the spot where they've been planted and walk. Not that I believe it, but this is Juno's oldest forest. Who knows what kind of ancient magic might have been placed on it."

Bakura's eyes grew to twice their size. "Great Scott!" he said in horror. He could not help remembering how one of the trees had seemed to ease itself closer to the road as they had walked past. "I'm afraid we may have seen that it doesn't only happen at night," he squeaked.

Volker looked back, staring at him in surprise. "The trees really have been angry," he mused. "I wonder if they think you're the forbidden magic thieves too?"

"Would they care?" Yami Bakura retorted.

"Some of them would," Volker said. "But no matter. We'll be out within the hour." He trooped ahead in unconcerned determination.

"And hopefully this isn't a case of leaping out of the frying pan and into the fire," Yami Bakura muttered to the others, side-stepping another extended root that had grown in the path.

Bakura and his father had to agree.


End file.
